


All The King's Horses

by lqior_astra



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s04e24 The Crimson Hat, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Happy Ending, Mostly Canon Compliant, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28528830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lqior_astra/pseuds/lqior_astra
Summary: What if Lisbon had decided to track Jane down in Vegas after hearing that he had been arrested? Spans the 6-month disappearance between Red Rover, Red Rover, and The Crimson Hat, as well as the events of The Crimson Hat. AU of sorts, some plot points changed.
Relationships: Patrick Jane & Teresa Lisbon, Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 18
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

Six months. 

It had been six months since Teresa Lisbon had last seen or heard from Patrick Jane. 

She remembered vividly the moment he was fired, taunting Wainwright until he had no choice but to change his suspension to termination out of anger. Lisbon had no doubt Jane did it on purpose. It was just like him to push a person to their breaking point, only to have schemed and manipulated them into falling into his trap. 

Well, she was done playing into his foolishness. Gone were the days when she would let herself become tangled in the web of his lies and tricks, only to receive a halfhearted apology for putting her reputation on the line. It was almost as if he didn’t realize everything she did for him, from shielding him in the field to protecting him from lawsuits by bigwigs who could demolish him in court. Apologies were one thing Patrick Jane was never very good at. Another was letting people into his life. Over and over he had told her that he was done with tricks, and over and over he proved to be telling yet another lie. 

That was the thing about con men, Lisbon supposed. They never could really be trusted. 

Just as Lisbon and Jane were beginning to make amends, starting to work better together and really become friends, he had to go and screw it up. Typical. If she got paid for every time he knowingly deceived her, Lisbon would be lounging on a private island somewhere sipping a piña colada. 

Life went on, albeit slowly and confusingly those past six months. The most obvious difference was work. It was no longer commonplace for her to come into work and find him sleeping on her couch. Instead, it was as if they had lost their last shred of happiness. The team came in on time and work was done, but there were no more lighthearted conversations in the break room or stupid bets on useless things. It looked more like the other floors of the CBI headquarters than ever, uniform, predictable, and stable. No more yelling matches took place between Senior Agent and Consultant, the former tending to stay in her office unless called out on a case. 

Her team worried about her, knowing that she felt responsible for what had happened to Jane. The truth was, she was avoiding them. Avoiding all the questions that were sure to follow about the nature of their relationship, as well as concerns about reaching out and finding him some help. So instead, she found respite in her office, mindlessly filling out paperwork and trying not to think about Jane, wasting away in some dump with no one to look after him. 

If anyone asked her about weaknesses, she wouldn’t admit to having any, but Lisbon knew that she could never resist caring for someone who needed it. She was self-sacrificial to a fault, using her time and resources to help out when people she knew were in trouble. When Jane first came to work for her, he was a mess, and she helped him bounce back to the person he was now. Or, at least, was six months ago. He never asked and probably didn’t deserve it, but something told Lisbon that Jane was special, and could do great things if only he had someone in his corner to help out. She took it upon herself to be that person for him, and as annoying as he could be, she could see the wonderful person underneath. 

A wonderful person who left without so much as a goodbye.

_

The first month was hard. 

Hours went by, Lisbon waiting up with her phone on, ready for a call from him asking for help, but he never called or texted. Those hours turned into days, which spun into cruel weeks, the only indication of time passing the spirited voicemails she left on his phone. 

She came into the office the first day after Jane’s termination, faced with grim looks from her team. 

“Boss? Is Jane coming back?” Van Pelt finally asked. 

Hanging her head slightly, Lisbon sighed, letting her frustration with Jane seep into her words. “Not sure. He never called or texted. He’ll be back on his own time, and not a moment sooner. You know how he is,” she said bitterly, handling her coffee cup with a white-knuckled grip. 

Cho made careful eye contact with her, trying to convey a message of sympathy through looks alone. Lisbon turned away so that no one could see the tears threatening to spill from her green eyes. 

It didn’t help that the first week he was gone was so slow, with lots of downtime that would usually be punctuated by lighthearted pranks on the team or plots to annoy her as she worked. They didn’t clean out his desk, all of them still in denial that he was really gone. Even as Lisbon’s texts and calls went unanswered, she still held a flicker of hope that he would be back. If not for the job, then for her. 

Her dreams were punctuated with fleeting visions of him, in her office, in the bullpen, in the attic. Everywhere she saw him in dreams seemed lighter, his laughter rolling through the empty room. But every time she tried to get close or reach out, he vanished, forever just out of her grasp. When she woke, she remembered and cursed her dreams for being such a cruel metaphor for what was happening in her life. 

Some days, she tried to pretend as if nothing was wrong, and he had just taken some vacation days off. But as days turned into weeks, she couldn’t pretend anymore, and the hole that he left in their lives was as gaping and raw as the hurt that settled in her heart.

It wasn’t just that he had left the team. He had left her too. 

“This is Jane. I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message, thanks.” 

By the end of the first month, she had memorized the cadence of his voice as he instructed her to leave a message, which she did faithfully at least once a day. Many were encouraging, hoping that he would find his way back to them. To her. Some were slurred, sent in the long hours of the night after work when she opened a bottle of whiskey against her good conscience. Not yet had she gotten angry, just sad that he wouldn’t return her calls. 

It didn’t make sense, she reasoned. How could a man with everything he had just leave it all behind? Leave his team behind to chase god knows what fantasy? It just wasn’t like him. 

This wasn’t the first time he had ever left. Maybe he’d be back.

Lisbon had been cleaning out her office when she let the tears fall for the first time. One of the drawers contained a multitude of complaint forms she had never sent, and tucked into the bottom corner of the drawer was a tiny, expertly folded paper frog. Turning the thing in her hand, she admired the tight creases and lines that held it together and pressed it down on her desk to see if it still hopped. Just the movement of the little animal, taking a tiny leap towards her was enough to set her heart aflame, still holding on to a dream that Jane would find his way back. Thankfully, it was the end of the workday and the team had all gone home. Lisbon crept out of her office to the parking lot, where she sat the frog on the dashboard before letting all of her conflicting emotions and thoughts out in a rainstorm of tears. 

Every day she prayed for him, not uncommon for a woman who went to church every Sunday. She would kneel on the floor, clutching her rosary beads, letting her anguish dim as she focused on asking for help for Jane, that he would come back to her. At first, the practice of emptying her mind and focusing her energy into prayer did wonders for the anxious thoughts that continued to live in her mind. But after weeks of prayer with no avail, she felt truly, hopelessly alone. 

Lisbon didn’t appreciate the outreach from a grief therapist, either. He had contacted her at Wainwright’s recommendation but did nothing other than talk through what Lisbon had already reviewed a million times in her head. The scheduled hour always crept by slowly, the therapist blabbing something about stages of grief and how to get proper help, but her head was in the clouds, pulled back to a train of thought revolving around her lost friend. 

Everywhere she went, little pieces of him were found. They had to clean out his attic by order of Wainwright, hoping to find a way to get in contact with him. Lisbon volunteered herself for the job, climbing the steps to the place where he spent so many days and nights. Sadly, she gazed at the space, still dismal and dusty, but with the peculiar feeling someone leaves behind when they’re gone. She started with the desk, clearing scraps of paper out of nearly empty drawers until she had gotten to the last one. The final drawer to the right contained a photo, folded twice over and hidden under an empty spiral-bound notebook. Lisbon debated whether or not to look, fearing that she was invading his privacy, but curiosity got the better of her. 

Carefully unfolding it so as not to crease it any more than it was, Lisbon recognized it immediately. The shot was of the two of them, taken after they solved a particularly tricky case at a high school reunion. Lisbon remembered every second of her dance with him and the way he swayed their bodies in time with one of her favorite songs. He had asked one of the alumni with an instant camera to take a picture of them together, his arm around her waist and hers somewhere behind his back. She remembered taking the photo, but couldn’t recall what he had done with it. Tears swam in her eyes as she noticed how worn the creases were as if he unfolded it to look at it often. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, Lisbon sat down heavily on his makeshift bed, noticing belatedly that the sheets smelled like him, a mixture of tea and honey and the slight scent of the ocean. 

Taking a moment to dry her tears, she finished cleaning and slipped out of the office for the night to make sure no one saw her puffy eyes or the tear tracks that shone on her face. Lisbon tucked the photo away with the origami frog, hiding them in the drawer of her nightstand so that no one could find them unless they knew where to look. 

_

By the time he had been gone for two months, her sadness had subsided into a sort of repressed anger, making her about as volatile as a hand grenade. She drifted aimlessly, floating between cases and meetings without actually taking in much of the information. The team noticed more of a difference than she did. Lisbon had become snappy and unforgiving when working with them, and they secretly referred to stakeouts with her as ‘drawing the short straw’. 

She lost her patience with Van Pelt when results took longer than usual to come in, she groused at Rigsby for drinking the last of the coffee in the break room, and she complained that Cho wasn’t spending enough time on interrogations. In their hearts, they knew Lisbon wasn’t truly angry with them but was taking her anger at Jane out on whoever she could. The team was mad at him too, in their own right, but they also understood that abandoning Lisbon was the worst thing he could have done.

They were tasked with working on one case, something that involved a lot of secrecy as well as a protection detail. So one night, the Serious Crimes Unit found themselves at a club, agents tucked into each corner, watching for a suspected drug deal. Lisbon was near the back at the bar, sipping on a club soda as she scanned the room for any familiar faces. Suddenly, a tall, muscular man appeared in front of her, reeking of whiskey and cigarette smoke. 

“Hey there, pretty lady,” he growled, leaning in toward her. “You here all by yourself?” 

Lisbon wrinkled her nose and tightened her grip on the glass. “Get lost.” 

“Aw, someone seems unhappy. What’s wrong, little lady? Get dumped by your man?” 

“That’s none of your business.” She gritted her teeth, trying not to cause a scene, but the man was pissing her off. 

He set his drink down on the bartop and moved in closer. “Are you angry, princess?” he sneered. 

Before she could think another word, Lisbon reared back and drove a hard punch into the man’s nose. With a sickening crack, he stumbled backward, eyes watering, until he was sitting in a heap on the floor. Activity around her came to a screeching halt as more people were focused on the collapsed man on the ground and her fist still up in the air. At the sight of blood, someone called an ambulance, but the medics confirmed that his nose wasn’t broken.

She stared at him with a sort of a grotesque satisfaction until Cho led her away. He brought her to the side of the building, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. 

“I’m going to say something you’re not going to like,” he started, eyeing her carefully. “And I don’t want to have to be the one to say it, but no one else will..” 

Her look dared him to continue. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? You just punched out one of our suspects. I don’t even want to know what he said to you, and I have no doubt he deserved it, but now we don’t stand much of a chance holding him without a confession, let alone getting proof that the deal ever happened.” 

Lisbon hung her head, the full impact of what had just happened hitting her. 

“Look, I know you’re angry. He shouldn’t have left, and I don’t know if you’re in touch with him, but you have every right to be upset. But you have to make sure that you don’t take your anger out on the people we’re investigating. I’m saying this as a friend, not as your subordinate.” 

When she went home that night, she took it into consideration, realizing the effect of her anger on her team. She resolved to find other outlets for her anger, frequenting the handgun range to practice accuracy shots. Lisbon took great comfort in the discovery of kickboxing. Punching the shit out of a heavy bag did wonders for depleting her energy as well as taking the edge off her anger for the duration of the session. The messages that made their way to Jane’s inbox were louder and more explicit than before, most of them shouts and curses of his abandonment. A few were deleted by Lisbon before they were delivered because she was seeing too much red to mean everything she was saying. 

Sometimes, someone would say something to her that reminded her of him. Many of the comments from other agents were out of pity. It wasn’t as if she didn’t hear the gossip, it got around fast. 

“That poor woman…”

“I heard they were sleeping together...left her.” 

“She won’t last long at this rate.” 

Tuning it out was difficult, but Lisbon did her best. She knew that the gossip had no bearing on her capability as an agent, but proving that to others would be the problem. The team was good about protecting her from the words thrown her way. What was guaranteed to be a comment riddled with pity was always halted by a sharp glare from Cho or the looming presence of Rigsby. They took care of her, even after she took out her anger on them. For that, they should have been commended. 

Lisbon asked Rigsby about it one night after work. “Why do you protect me even after all I’ve done to push you away?” 

He was quiet for a moment, the only sound the hum of the air conditioning. “We do it because we care about you. Jane leaving is hard on all of us, but most of all, it’s hard for you. I’m not going to ask why, because it’s not my business, but we do care, boss. We’re not going to let some assholes with relationship issues get under your skin.” 

Lisbon smiled sadly. “Thanks, Rigsby.” 

Her nightmares took a dark turn, many of them featuring prominently the torture of being stuck, unable to move or speak. Shadows floated around her in swirls, dragging their claws up her arms and whispering in her ears. She saw Jane often in dreams, whether it was him chasing her or her chasing him. He always seemed to disappear through a door just out of reach, locking the heavy doors behind him without so much as acknowledging her presence or saying goodbye. 

“Where did you go?” she screamed to the wind in one such dream. “Why did you leave me?” 

“Don’t do this to yourself, Lisbon,” a familiar voice replied. “You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be.” 

“What do you mean? Why can’t I see you?” 

A deep laugh reverberated through her mind. “Just let me go. It’s so much easier this way.” 

Lisbon awoke in cold sweats, heart and head pounding as she tried to process everything that happened. Needless to say, she didn’t fall asleep again that night, or the night after. 

_

Her prayers began to turn to desperation when he had been gone for three months with no word. He could be anywhere in the world, in any kind of trouble, and Lisbon blamed herself. Days became waking nightmares, the truth and reality that he was gone for good hitting her like a truck. Every undistracted moment was spent replaying the time before he left, his rejection of her offer to help. It felt less like a memory and more like a punishment. 

If only I had insisted on helping him, she thought as she lay in bed for another sleepless night. 

Vividly, she remembered how he would help her. Every time he asked her to go out for lunch with him to make sure she didn’t skip it or keeping her company in the office on the late nights when she was swamped with work. Neither said anything, just lapsed into a comfortable and companionable silence, the feeling of being close to someone warding off the stress of the job. And once, in a time of desperation, he helped her when she was at her most vulnerable, hypnotizing her and helping catch the man who framed her for killing William McTier. 

Dark rings formed under her eyes as she went longer and longer without sleep, rest evading her as thoughts swirled like a dark hurricane through her mind. The more she considered the ways she could have helped, the more she started to believe that all of this was her fault. If only she could reach him, maybe he’d come back to her. To them. 

If only.

Lisbon dragged herself to work, as usual, put on a brave face, and continued to be the boss, the glue holding their team together. It wasn’t as if there was much else she could do anyway. She came out of her office more often, even managing a sad smile at one of Rigsby’s jokes. Cases picked up, keeping her mind off of Jane. Closure rates had plummeted though, with the loss of their major asset, and the pressure was on to keep going without him. Every time Lisbon walked through the bullpen, she was greeted by an empty leather couch, guilt settling like a rock in her stomach. The persistent feeling of sickness followed her as long as she could see places Jane used to love, not going unnoticed by the team. 

Van Pelt noticed the signs more than anyone. How quickly she left after eating case-closed pizza with the team, the way Lisbon kept her eyes on the ground instead of looking up as she walked. The usual badass attitude had been replaced by a guilt-ridden quietness, so unlike the Lisbon they were used to. Even her performance in the field had changed, preferring to stay behind instead of leading the pack the way she usually did. 

Her evenings were spent trying to push away the persistent feelings of self-condemnation. She was consuming more alcohol than she had since college, using it to take the edge off and numb her to sleep. Guilt persisted through her dreams as she chased Jane down a long dark hallway, consistently out of reach. His figure would beckon her to follow, before taking off into a dark chasm of black, never to turn around long enough to acknowledge her. Lisbon was getting tired of running, tired of chasing, tired of putting her life on hold to get him back. 

Maybe she was better off moving on. Getting her old self back, finding someone to settle down and make a life with. There was no use in pining after a man who would abandon her at his convenience, after all. 

Every time her thoughts got on this track, they were soon replaced by a mountain of guilt, plying her into a breakdown. 

The messages turned to pleas for him to find her, begging him to get help. She left numbers for crisis hotlines and begged him to call her back, but nothing ever came of it. One night, she decided to search the CBI arrest database for him out of desperation, but nothing came back. 

“We’ll fix it.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“I’ll come by your place tonight. We’ll talk it out, okay?” 

“You’re sweet.” 

“Let me help you.” 

Their last conversation before he left the CBI forever seemed to feature heavily in her mind as of late. For once in her life, Lisbon was glad she didn’t have Jane’s memory gift, glad she wasn’t able to recall his expressions and the sad look in his beautiful eyes as he left without even saying goodbye. 

She did go by his place that night, even though he hadn’t said she needed to. When she got there, the cleaning lady was already in his room, vacuuming the carpet. With a pit in her stomach, she asked where he had gone, only to be told that he had checked out of the extended-stay motel hours before, leaving no clue as to where he was going.

She was too late. 

Van Pelt pulled her aside one day at work, feeling slightly like she was cornering a dragon in its lair. Everyone on the team was worried about Lisbon, noticing the hollow look in her eyes and the way she stayed cooped up in her office more and more with each passing day. They didn’t quite know what to do for her, given that it was an unusual situation and they didn’t want to upset her further, so Grace volunteered herself for a little outreach. 

“Hey boss,” she started, opening the door. 

Lisbon did not look up. “Any news on the Parsons case?” 

“Er...no. Medical examiner hasn’t gotten back to us yet with autopsy reports. I was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee? We can go to that place you like,” Van Pelt suggested. 

Looking up for the first time, Lisbon noticed the hopeful smile plastered on Van Pelt’s face, as well as the time. It wasn’t as if they could move on with work without the autopsy report, so she reluctantly agreed. Ten minutes later, the two women found themselves at an outdoor table, one more secluded from the others. 

“Boss, I-” Van Pelt stammered, not quite knowing what to say. 

Lisbon looked up from pulling apart a muffin. 

“You know it’s not your fault,” Grace said quietly. “No one blames you for what happened.” 

“No one but myself,” she mumbled bitterly. 

“He would have gone anyway. You know how he is when he has a plan, he’ll do whatever it takes to execute it, even if it means alienating all his allies in the process. You’re not the cause, just collateral damage.” 

“He probably thinks the same. Not returning the hundreds of calls and texts, not even bothering to let me know he’s okay. God, after all I’ve done for him!” 

Once Lisbon had herself back under control, Van Pelt continued. “I just want you to know there’s nothing you could have done. It’s rough, but moving on is important. I’m worried about you. We all are.” 

“There’s no reason to be concerned.” Lisbon put on a brave face. “It’s just...some days are harder than others.” 

Judging from her look, Grace didn’t quite believe her but was either too polite or too nervous to press her more.

_

As she lay curled up in her bed, Lisbon contemplated how long it had been. Four months. Things had improved for a short while, but talk around the office of finding a replacement for Jane had brought Lisbon back to rock bottom once again. Her heart felt heavy, the weight of guilt and sadness over his loss dragging her down whenever she tried to pick herself back up. 

She was like a pebble that washed ashore only to be picked up and thrown back into the waves again. 

At work, she kept up her usual appearances, but she was more tired than ever after restless nights where the only dreams were nightmares. Any work in the field became a chore, her sluggishness and lethargy catching up with her. Falling asleep on the job, something that had never previously been an issue for her, started to happen more frequently, especially when they were traveling to crime scenes. One of her team members always asked for the keys before they went anywhere, just to prevent her from falling asleep behind the wheel. 

Most days, it was hard to drag herself out of bed. 

Wainwright insisted on forcing her to see the grief counselor again, refusing to let her back to work until he had signed off on her. In Lisbon’s eyes, it was a lot of pointless crap, the man spending most of their sessions questioning her incessantly about Jane and the nature of their relationship before he left. Eventually, she convinced him to sign off on her, but it wasn’t as if their sessions had much of an effect on her. 

Returning to work didn’t feel any different, except for the persistent feeling of sadness that followed her as she tried to live her life. She came into work later than usual and left earlier than usual. No one knew where she disappeared in her free time. Of course, there were whispers, but her team didn’t want to contribute to the already harmful enough gossip pool. Snatches of scandals could be heard anywhere they weren’t quieted by Rigsby, Van Pelt, or Cho, and it had enough of an effect on Lisbon that she didn’t want to be seen much anymore. 

Her office remained a place of solace, a safe haven for the tired, dragged down senior agent. She cried more often than she used to, the desperation and despair of the entire situation seeming to reach directly into her heart. Attempts at lighthearted conversation with the team always ended in painful reminders. 

“It’s a shame Jane isn’t here to pass the time with a mind-reading trick or two, right?” Rigsby said carelessly one afternoon as they sat around the bullpen. 

All too late, he noticed the flash of pain behind her eyes and tried to retract his statement, but the damage was already done. Excusing herself, Lisbon all but ran back to her office to let the tears flow in private. The littlest things upset her, and it was very frustrating to deal with. 

At first, she blamed it on hormones or a stressful week, but she was realizing that it was just something she would have to learn to get over. 

It had been a long time since she felt like this, Jane’s departure bringing up some rather...unpleasant memories of her parents. In her mind, she knew the thoughts weren’t rational, but it was taking too long for her brain to catch up with her heart that there was a disconnect between logic and the sadness that ached deep within her. As many times as she was told it wasn’t her fault, she wouldn’t believe it. 

If only I had gotten there sooner, she told herself, repeating the thought like a mantra. Maybe he’d still be here. 

More times than she could count, she fell asleep clutching the blankets on her bed, shaking as she let all of the emotions wash out of her like a river. Mornings brought cold showers to rinse away the tear tracks left behind, just in time for work. She no longer ate with the team, avoiding their tradition of case-closed pizza in favor of leaving early. Eating was starting to become more of an issue, a vicious cycle of exhaustion and hunger. 

Noting her gaunt frame, the team made it a point to invite her out more often. Most times she refused, inventing some lie to get her out of spending more time with other people than strictly necessary, but she humored them every once in a while, playing it up as if it were some sort of achievement. All their efforts to get her to come out of her shell were appreciated but didn’t change much in terms of her own internal struggle against herself. Tearful messages popped up in Jane’s phone more than ever, begging him to just call her back or reach out to her in some way. 

One afternoon, Wainwright called her in to talk about case progress, glossing over the fact that she didn’t look as spirited as she once did. 

“Ah, Lisbon! There you are,” he said, beckoning her to sit across from him. “I wanted to talk about a few things. You’re on the Corrigan case, right?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Excellent. I take it you’re making progress?” 

“As much as we can. I have a gut feeling that the husband is responsible, but he has a seemingly unbreakable alibi.” 

“We don’t operate on instinct, Agent Lisbon,” Wainwright scolded gently. “It may have been different with Jane, but he’s gone now. Your team is responsible for some of the highest profile cases we cover. I need your assurance that you will follow standard operating procedure.” 

Biting back a snide remark, she hung her head. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good. With that settled, I’ve been thinking it might be good to have your team talk to a few new academy graduates, look at adding another consultant or even another agent to the unit. Closure rate being what it is.” 

“With all due respect, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” 

“And why not?” 

“My team is working on moving on. Introducing someone new into a mix of people who still haven’t come to terms with Jane leaving is a recipe for disaster.” This wasn’t the whole truth, but it was as much as Lisbon was willing to admit to her inexperienced boss. “Besides, there’s always a chance he’ll come back.” 

Wainwright eyed her with a suspicion usually reserved for interrogating suspects. “Agent Lisbon, is there something you’re not telling me?” 

“No,” she lied. “I just don’t think it’s a good learning environment for an academy graduate to have to keep up with a team who is used to a certain sort of person, that’s all.” 

“Let me get this straight. You’re suggesting we keep Jane’s place vacant?” 

“Yes, just until we hear whether or not he’s coming back.” 

“And if we don’t hear anything?” 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

Lisbon left Wainwright’s office that day with a note of pride and an air of finality. Until the day she heard from Jane himself, she would continue to advocate for keeping his spot open for him. They were like his family after all, and she knew from experience that family was not supposed to abandon one another when times get tough.

She kept on, though, following the flow of life, trying to pull herself out of the hole of guilt and sadness she had dug for herself. Sometimes, she thought it might have been better if Jane at least admitted he was leaving her. 

"Am I that easy to abandon? Am I that hard to love?" she screamed into her pillow on one of the worst nights. 

Even though they were two different situations, Lisbon couldn't help but compare it to her father. Death and abandonment weren't the same, but emotionally, he had abandoned them long before he died. The responsibility of looking after her team and rebuilding their reputation felt akin to caring for and raising her brothers, and the whole situation brought back things she hadn't felt in years. 

In an attempt to try and get back into a normal routine, Lisbon attended the occasional yoga class with Van Pelt, neither of them acknowledging the elephant in the room. She could often be found at the handgun range with Cho, using the excuse of brushing up before firearms recertification, but both knew they were there to blow off steam. Rigsby did his best to do nice things for her, but her recent unpredictability hindered his efforts. Doing something with her outside of work was out of the question, she made him too nervous. So instead, he settled for bringing her coffee and pastries from her favorite local coffee shops. 

She still refused to eat bear claws, the memories of sharing them with Jane tainting the once enjoyable treat.

_

As time went on, things began to look better for Lisbon. She still sent voicemails, but less than she used to. Angry messages were rare, the more common variety just a plea for him to get help. 

He had moved on, clearly, and she needed to accept it. 

Some pills are harder to swallow than others, though, and this one had taken five months. If she were to have to place herself on the stupid curve her grief counselor had talked about, Lisbon would say she was on her way back up. Time heals all wounds, as they say. 

Her team was back to a stellar closure rate even without Jane, the highest in the bureau. They continued to work straight, no more tricks coming as a mandate from the higher-ups. No one new applied for Jane’s position, so interviews were unnecessary, preventing further anguish to the already harrowed agents. Lisbon spent more time in the bullpen with her team, craving the feeling of just being around people after having been so lonely for so long. Anyone could tell she was sleeping better at night, the dark circles fading from their residency under her eyes. 

She was looking stronger too, having spent a fair amount of time letting out steam at the gym. On average, she was getting seven hours of sleep per night, which was better than it had been in months. Prayers for Jane’s soul were still said every night, with extra time in church on Sundays praying for a safe return. 

“Good morning!” Van Pelt called from her desk, already hard at work crunching some numbers from their most recent case. 

“Morning!” Lisbon replied, sounding happy for the first time in what felt like forever. “How’s that information coming?” 

“Almost there, boss. Once we hear back from the victim’s insurance company, we’ll have all the proof we need to pin this.” 

“Nice work.” 

Grace waited until Lisbon was out of earshot before swiveling in her chair to face the boys. “Lisbon’s back,” she said, smiling. 

Rigsby let out a quiet whoop and Cho cracked a tiny grin before turning back to the book he was reading. Workdays and weeks went by quickly, the team adjusting to the new dynamic with their boss back in full swing. They covered ground from the bottom of California to the top, putting away bad people and bringing justice in the way only they could. No one spoke of Jane, nor did anyone move his couch. Both were from a time that seemed to be gone, but secretly they held out hope that neither would become relics of the past. 

Around the time Jane had been gone for six months, they caught a case involving a John Doe shot in an alleyway just outside of Sacramento. Van Pelt had gotten there around the same time as the crime scene techs, but Lisbon, Rigsby, and Cho decided to meet her there after the scene was contained. Rigsby had been chattering excitedly about all the things Benjamin was learning to do, when Pat, her coroner friend, beckoned her over. 

It never ceased to make Lisbon feel a little bit sick when they came across a victim, but she tried to quell the churning of her stomach as the team discussed possibilities for the identity of their John Doe. 

“Give us twenty minutes with him, and you can bag him,” Lisbon directed, trying to get out of the way. 

“No hurry,” Pat replied nonchalantly. “Hey, sorry about Jane, by the way. That’s too bad.” 

“Too bad about what?” 

“That he got arrested. I heard it from some guys in vice. He got busted for assault, fraud, narcotics, and resisting arrest in Vegas.” 

Her heart dropped, and she didn’t even hear the outbursts from the rest of her team as she let the realization sink in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the continued support of my works, I'm glad to hear people have been enjoying this story!

Lisbon’s vision swam a little as she desperately tried to recover. All this time, Jane had only been a state away. If she were running away, she would have chosen somewhere a little more off the grid, or if he was trying to get away from her, the opposite side of the country. But maybe he wasn’t running.

Around her, the team was talking animatedly about finding him, tracking him down, and getting him some help. Lisbon understood where they were coming from, Jane was their friend and colleague, but at the same time, he had abandoned them as if they meant nothing.

“That’s terrible,” Rigsby said, shaking his head. 

Van Pelt looked sick. “We should do something.” 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know, try and talk to him, I guess.” Grace sounded a little bit defensive at taking such a stand. “See if he needs help. It’s been six months since he left. Maybe he’s changed.” 

“No,” Lisbon interrupted. 

“But-” 

“I offered him all the help in the world and he turned me down many times,” Lisbon explained. He has to want to change. He has to hit bottom and know it, that’s recovery 101, right?” 

“I guess.” 

“Maybe this is bottom,” Rigsby pointed out. 

Cho looked at her, the faint shadow of surprise on his face. “It’s pretty low, boss.” 

“When he wants help, he’ll ask us. He knows where we are.” Lisbon knew her words were harsh, but she didn’t like the idea of being another plaything for Jane to discard at his will. “Hey Pat, good seeing you. Get our John Doe here on ice quick, I think he’s gonna be around for a while.” 

As she walked away from her team, Lisbon felt a little bit guilty for leaving them so abruptly, but she desperately needed time to think. Finding out where Jane had been hiding was a bombshell for her, and being around other people was not conducive to processing everything she had just learned. 

Fraud and resisting arrest were charges she could believe, but assault and narcotics? It didn’t sound like the Jane she knew. 

Putting it all out of her mind, she savored the bite of the wind chill on her nose and cheeks before hopping back in her SUV for the short drive home. She knew that being in a familiar place was best for thinking, so when she returned to her apartment, Lisbon dropped her keys on the counter, kicked off her shoes, and sat down on her couch with a glass of wine. 

Why hadn’t he called her back? Clearly, he was in trouble. 

Lisbon sighed. She had options now, knowing where he was. Doing nothing and letting him come to her was easier and less painful, not having to dredge up the past in the process. However, she didn’t like the idea of her friend out there suffering, not when she had the power to help him. 

That was always the problem. Power. 

But, Lisbon supposed decisions wouldn’t be called decisions if they were easy, so she mentally listed the pros and cons of each choice. It would be easier for her to not look for him, she wouldn’t have to deal with the heartbreak of him not wanting to come back, but he could be out there in serious trouble if she left him alone. If she went looking for him, there would be a chance she wouldn’t find him, but at least she could say she tried. Lisbon knew that he likely wouldn’t seek her out, and maybe her only chance to see him again was to go in search of him. 

Jail was no place for Patrick Jane, she knew that firsthand. Lisbon remembered one case where Jane had been arrested, and not only did he manipulate the entire team into bringing him the case facts, he escaped jail with nothing but a half-assed plan and a cranberry muffin. If he really wanted to, he could be out before daylight, back into whatever shitty motel she supposed he was staying in. 

The pros of going to look for him far outweighed the cons, as Lisbon realized she would rather have at least tried to help him than have to hear about something happening to him and knowing she did nothing. 

It was hypocritical, she knew, especially after that big speech to the team earlier about how he would reach out if he needed help. In her heart, Lisbon knew that she had to at least do something. So that’s how she found herself alone on her couch on a Monday night, calling the number of a bail bondsman in Las Vegas. 

“Hi, my name is Agent Teresa Lisbon, I’m looking to put up bail for Patrick Jane.” 

The man on the other end let out a sigh. “Sure. How recently was he arrested?”

She bit her lip. “Recently. I’m not sure of the date, but it was within the last week.” 

“Where’s he being held?” 

“Clark County Detention Center.” Lisbon had made sure to find this out before calling, asking Pat and her friends from vice. 

“Okay. I’ve just entered him in our record, we’ll need your information as well. Are you able to pay it all, or are you planning to put up collateral?”

“Collateral,” she said tiredly, rattling off her contact information and address. 

It felt like forever before the man on the other end of the phone stopped typing. “That’s weird,” he said. 

“What’s weird?” Lisbon replied, too energetic for the late hour. 

“I’m sorry. It looks like someone has already put up bail for Mr. Jane. It didn’t show up on the initial search, but I can no longer process your request. He’ll be released from Clark County Detention Center in the morning.” 

That was odd. Lisbon supposed he did have the funds to do it, but no activity had been made on his account in six months. They checked. “Do you know who paid it?” she asked, worried. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t have that information.” 

“Figures,” she muttered. “Thanks anyway.” 

The man apologized again before hanging up. Lisbon sat back on her couch soundly, tossing her phone on the side table in frustration. Even her attempts to help him were thwarted, making the decision to do nothing look very inviting. 

Realizing how odd it was that someone beat her to it, she considered where the money for his bail could have come from. Considering his charges, it couldn’t have come from anywhere good, but Lisbon was almost certain that something was very wrong. The news of his arrest had already made it through the cop circuit, who knew what other people had found out? 

It had crossed her mind that someone on her team could have done it, but that didn’t seem likely. Just in case, Lisbon decided to ask. 

“Boss? Everything okay?” Van Pelt asked, answering after the first ring. 

Briefly, she considered telling Grace the truth, but decided against it. “Everything’s fine. Are you at home?” 

“Yes. What’s going on?” 

“I need you to answer a question honestly. Did you put up bail for Jane?” 

There was a puff of static in the background. “Absolutely not. I just got here, I wouldn’t have even had a chance to. Why?” 

Lisbon mentally ticked Grace’s name off the list. “No reason. I just wanted to know.” 

“Okay. Well, I hope everything’s all right,” Van Pelt said worriedly. “Goodnight, boss. See you later.” 

Echoing a similar farewell, Lisbon hung up the phone and dialed Rigsby. It was far-fetched that anyone on her team would have bailed him out, especially after hearing her opinions on the whole situation. 

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Lisbon said, biting her lip. She knew Rigsby’s time with Benjamin was precious. 

“You’re not! What’s up, boss?” 

She shifted on the couch. Lisbon hated questioning them about something like this, it made it feel more like an interrogation than a friendly conversation. “Did you put up bail for Jane?” 

“What? No. I don’t even know where he’s being held.” 

“Okay. Just making sure.” 

“Besides, didn’t you say you didn’t want us to help him?” Rigsby asked uncomfortably.

She sighed. It sounded so bad when put that way. “You’re right, I did. That’s why I wanted to make sure.” 

“Boss, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing. I was just checking up on something, that’s all.” 

“Okay then. I hope it all works out,” he said, sounding doubtful. “See you at the office.” 

Lisbon had confirmation that two out of her three team members had nothing to do with Jane being released, but she knew she still had to call Cho. This was the call she was the most nervous about making because out of the three of them, Cho was the most likely to call her out. Both Rigsby and Van Pelt were great agents, but they always avoided confrontation as much as they could. 

“Boss?” Cho answered. He was a man of few words, but the way he said it made all the difference. 

“Hey, Cho. I’ve got a question for you.” 

“Shoot.” 

She took a deep breath. “Did you put up bail for Jane?” 

“No. Did you?” 

“No.” It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth. “I had to make sure no one else did.” 

“I’ll follow your lead. I’m not planning on finding him.” 

“Okay. Thanks, Cho.” 

A feeling of relief washed over Lisbon like a river, rushing from her head to her toes. It was good to know she at least had made an impact on how the team interpreted the Jane situation, but for better or for worse, she didn’t know. They would stand by her, not only because she was their boss, but because Jane leaving had hurt them too. 

Her new findings brought more options and opportunities. Lisbon had no idea if it would even be beneficial to track him down, not knowing if he would be receptive to her company or her help. But it was very suspicious that bail had been put up so quickly by someone who wasn’t Jane. 

Maybe it was selfish of her, but Lisbon desperately wanted to know who that mystery ally was. The half plan she had in her head was a risky move, something resembling one of Jane’s dubious ideas, but something inside her was saying that she needed to go through with it. 

Grabbing a glass of water, Lisbon propped her laptop up on her knees, searching for a last-minute flight to Las Vegas. If she was going to catch him right after he was released, she needed to get there as soon as possible. Briefly, she entertained the idea of driving, but an eight-hour drive in the middle of the night sounded like too much. So, she used some of the airline miles she picked up from frequent travel with work and snatched a ticket for a flight leaving in a few hours. It was well past midnight, and Lisbon knew she sounded crazy, but she bounded up the stairs to get a bag together. 

Not knowing how many nights she’d be gone, packing was a true guessing game. If Jane refused her help, she’d be back as soon as she could get a flight to Sacramento. Lisbon couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in serious trouble, so she didn’t mind staying a few extra nights to get him out of a sticky situation. 

With a packed bag by the door and a jacket slung over her shoulder, Lisbon arranged for a rental car in Vegas and called Wainwright. She didn’t know if he would be awake, but most of the agents she worked with kept their phones on all night in case of an emergency.

“Lisbon?” he asked groggily. 

“Hi. I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to take some personal time off in the next few days.” She bit her lip. “I’ll hopefully be back by the end of the week, sorry for the late notice.” 

Wainwright didn’t sound convinced. “Is everything okay? Tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with Jane.” 

“It has nothing to do with Jane,” Lisbon lied. “Really, it’s a, um, family emergency.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, seeming to regret his line of questioning. ”Take whatever time you need.” 

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when I’ll be back.” 

Hanging up the phone and throwing it in her bag, she locked her apartment and headed for the airport.

_ 

As Patrick Jane lay on the cot in his cell, he thought about the set of circumstances that brought him to where he was. Any attempt to sleep proved futile, the various aches and bruises making it almost impossible to lay in a comfortable position. His eye still hurt, the swollen skin around it preventing him from opening it all the way. Oscar’s men had gotten a punch and a few good kicks in before the police arrived, and Jane could only be thankful that he escaped with relatively minor injuries. 

His thoughts wandered to the pretty cocktail waitress who had been talking with him before everything went to shit. When he first saw her out of the corner of his eye, her brunette hair pulled up into a tight bun reminded him of Lisbon, of everything he had left behind. 

“Lorelei, right?” Jane had asked. Of course, he remembered her name, but playing the part of the alcohol-addled misanthrope required him to hide his memory gift. “How you doing? I’m Patrick.” 

“Hey, Patrick.” She shook his hand. “So you’re not a magician?” 

“No. I’m a conman, I steal from people.”

The look of surprise on her face was accompanied by something more. “Wow. You just come right out and say it. ‘I steal from people’, like ‘I sell shoes’, like it’s not a big deal.” 

“Well, it’s not a big deal. If you know what you’re doing, it’s very easy,” Jane said casually, trying to get a clear read on her.

Lorelei looked at him, curiosity visible in her eyes. “It’s a big deal because it’s wrong to steal from people.” 

“No such thing as wrong.” 

“Really? When did that happen?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Well, there’s legal or illegal,” he explained. “There’s happy or sad, rich or poor, alive or dead. But there’s no wrong or right. Stuff just happens, that’s all. One damn thing after another.” 

“Of course there’s wrong or right. You know that.” 

Looking back, Jane almost regretted telling Lorelei about the man he killed. He hadn’t had much time with her, and the alcohol combined with his misery had made it harder for him to read people over those last few months. But she had given off a steady air of suspicion, and at that moment a leap in the wrong direction sounded better than no leap at all. So he dove off the deep end, explaining casually about the man he had shot and killed. She seemed surprised, just the reaction he was going for. 

A dull pain started in his heart when she said that her secret to happiness was faith, and he idly wondered whether or not Lisbon had kept faith even after all this time. Now, sitting in the cell late at night, he didn’t know what to think. Like a man possessed, he had listened to every voicemail she left, but he didn’t dare reply or call her back. She sounded angry in some, depressed in others, but the most recent ones had taken an uplifting tone, a sure sign that she was moving on. Which was good. He didn’t want to cause her any more pain than necessary. 

It had been a rough six months for him as well, and he knew that it was an asshat move not to tell anyone about his plan. To be honest, the plan would only work if he could keep up the act, really make it look like he had hit rock bottom. Several times over the duration of the con, he had questioned whether or not he had really hit rock bottom. Each new voicemail from Lisbon had begun an internal fight over whether or not to call her back. 

If his suspicions about Lorelei were correct, he was closer than he had ever been. But for now, all he had was the uncomfortable cot and memories of his old life. 

_ 

Lisbon’s flight had been a short one, rounding off to about an hour and a half before she touched down at the North Las Vegas Airport. The minute she got there, she sent off a text to her team explaining that she had taken some personal time and would let them know when she would be back. It was early in the morning, and she knew they wouldn’t see it right away, but she wanted to be the one to tell them so they weren’t blindsided by her disappearance at work. 

True to her ways, she hadn’t checked a bag, just packed a carry on, so she skipped over baggage claim and headed out to the section of the airport with internet access. One thing that was to be appreciated about her surroundings was that many people didn’t pay attention to others in airports. The stress of getting from one gate to another was enough to make people overlook her completely as she connected her laptop to the network and went about searching for extended stay motels in the area. 

Unsurprisingly, there were many, but she narrowed down the search by price and location before making a list of addresses. The rental car place wasn’t busy, something not unusual for five in the morning on a Tuesday. Lisbon picked up an unassuming SUV, plugged her address list into the satnav, and set out to search parking lots. 

They assumed he had taken his car with him. The Citroen was his baby, a true classic in French engineering. Of course, Lisbon had never seen it that way before, but the hope of finding it in one of the motor motel parking lots was enough to make her love that awful car. 

“Come on, come on,” she muttered, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. It had taken hours to get off the tarmac and get the car, and it was nearing sunrise. The bail bondsman had told her he would be released in the morning, but she didn’t know what time. Her only goal was to get to his motel room before he inevitably did. “Queen’s Palace Motel,” Lisbon read aloud from the first sign. 

A circle around the lot was enough to tell that Jane was not staying there, unless he had switched cars. She drove by six other motel lots before visiting the Tod Motor Motel. At that point, she was beginning to give up hope, but a glimpse of Botticelli blue (Jane had told her the exact color) caught her eye. Not daring to believe it, she parked across the way, running her hand over the roof as if she was actually glad to see the damned contraption. 

It was around seven in the morning, plenty early for someone to be in the office, so Lisbon marched in and flashed her badge. 

“I’m Agent Teresa Lisbon, CBI. Is there a Patrick Jane staying here?” 

The older woman gestured for her to bring the badge closer. “Mr. Jane? I have seen him.” 

“Okay. So he’s staying here?” 

“Yes.” 

Lisbon huffed. This wasn’t getting her anywhere. “What can you tell me about him?” 

“Mr. Jane is a good man. Kind to my daughter, pays on time. I never see people with him. He seems hungover most of the time, he goes out a lot at night.” 

“Thank you.” This was progress, a good sign. “Can I have his room number, please?” 

“Room 22.” 

In hindsight, Lisbon realized the woman should have asked for a warrant, but she supposed Vegas operated differently. Room 22 had a foreboding feel, the peeling paint on the door a sound reflection of the people who stayed there. Keys proved to be an issue, but one quickly solved as Lisbon got to employ a skill she hardly ever used -- lockpicking. Jane had taught it to her a long time ago, claiming it could help her in a pinch, but she suspected he was just bored. But here she was, using a trick learned from an ex-con. 

Carefully edging the door open, the first thing that caught her mind in the dingy motel room was the strong smell of liquor. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but there were several empty bottles piled by the door and various matchbooks strewn on a side table. Once she realized she didn’t have to keep her guard up, she snooped around the room for any hints of Jane. Suits were hanging up in the closet, wrinkled and unkempt, and a clean teacup sat on the counter of the little kitchenette. 

Unmistakably Jane. 

Steeping in anticipation, Lisbon sat down at the little table, drew the curtains, and waited.

_ 

Morning brought glaring light into Patrick Jane’s shared cell, waking his cellmate with a grumble. Jane hadn’t slept much, the bruises coupled with the unfamiliar room not conducive to rest. A security guard rattled the door of the cell, fully rousing both inmates. 

“Patrick Jane, you’re being released. Please follow me,” he said, looking at a clipboard. Jane followed him down the hallway to the entry office, wincing. “Sign that.” 

“Why am I being released? I didn’t raise bail,” Jane said, picking up the pen.

“Somebody raised it for you.”

There was only one person Jane knew who would raise bail for him in this situation. “Who was that?” 

“I don’t have that information.” 

“Teresa Lisbon, that’s my guess. Huh? Lisbon?” 

“I don’t have that information.” 

“Okay, you don’t have that information.” Jane gave him back the paperwork, slightly surprised that he couldn’t find out who had paid his bail. He slid the envelope that had contained his personal belongings back at the man, there wasn’t anything there worth having. “You can keep that.” 

Squinting against the light as he opened the door, Jane set out to find a bus that would take him close to his hotel. All the sounds and flashing signs of Los Angeles did nothing to improve his already hungover state, and he quickly hopped a red line bus just to get out of the glaring sun. It took several stops, but he got to where he wanted to go, winding up quickly in the parking lot of the motel that he had called home for the past six months. 

Lisbon heard footsteps before she heard the key wiggle in the door, and she shifted slightly closer to the door. It opened slowly, a familiar head of blonde curls peeking through the door as he threw the keycard down on the table she sat at. He didn’t seem to fully recognize her presence there yet, but when he turned around he saw her in full angry glory, arms crossed tightly over her chest and mouth pulled into a twisted frown. 

He blinked. “Lisbon. I didn’t think you’d be here. How’d you get in?” 

“Picked the lock. It’s funny, all these months I’ve been thinking of what I’d say to you if I ever saw you again, and now that I am, I’m at a loss for words.” Her tone was hard, no room for negotiation. 

Brushing past her to grab a miniature bottle of vodka and some painkillers, Jane perched on the end of the bed. “I have that effect on people,” he said nonchalantly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Oh, you’re full of it today, aren’t you? Just released from jail and you’re already back to whatever half-assed scheme you’ve concocted?” Lisbon asked, raising her voice with each word. “You know, I thought for once you might be glad to see me, might be glad to know that you haven’t alienated all your allies.” 

He paused, bottle halfway to his mouth. “Maybe I’m not happy to see you.” 

“What?” Lisbon froze. 

“You heard me.” Jane stared at her unnervingly. “Maybe I’ve given up. There’s a reason I didn’t answer your messages. You just couldn’t seem to move on, could you?” 

“Are you kidding me right now?” Lisbon spat. “What the hell is wrong with you? No, don’t answer that. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re partners!” 

“Are we?” 

“Stop answering my questions with questions! God, you’re pissing me off!” Lisbon was on her feet now, pacing back and forth in front of Jane. “All this time, I’ve been worried to death, scared I was going to hear that you’d been killed. And suddenly I hear you’ve been arrested for fraud, resisting arrest, and fucking narcotics?! I can’t believe you! You disappear for six whole months without a word, and now you have the audacity to tell me we aren’t even partners!” 

“Look, Lisbon, I-” 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Patrick Jane.” She turned on him, fire in her eyes and hands balled into fists. “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses.” 

“I’m giving up, Lisbon!” Jane’s voice rose in volume to match hers until they were shouting at each other. “Don’t you understand? He wins! I don’t even care what happens to me anymore! Look at me, I’m drinking myself into a stupor every night, sitting in so many casinos and bars that my clothes permanently smell like cigar smoke! I’m a mess, Lisbon, beyond repair!” 

“Will you please listen to me for once in your miserable life? I can help you!”

Jane shook his head sadly. “No, you can’t.” 

“God, Jane! I don’t understand why all of a sudden you don’t want anything to do with me!” Confusion mixed with the sadness on her face, a painful combination.

“It’s not you.” 

“Oh, so you’re going to play it like I’ve never heard that before? Don’t think for a minute that I’m going to put up with your stupid excuses for cutting me out!” she yelled. 

Just then, a knock on the door sounded. Lisbon watched as he moved to open the door, hot anger from her gaze burning into his back. A pretty, young girl stood timidly on the mat, holding a brown paper bag. In contrast to Lisbon, her hair and makeup were done immaculately and she had the air of a woman who hadn’t known anger. 

“Hey,” she said shyly, stepping back a little. “Surprise.”

“Yeah. Lori, right?” Jane asked, purposely messing up her name. Inside the room, Lisbon rocked back and forth on her heels impatiently. 

She squinted. “It’s Lorelei. I’m sorry, this was a mistake. It sounds like you’re in the middle of an argument, and I seem to have interrupted. I’m going to, uh, come back another time.” 

“No, no, no, no, Lorelei, I’m very happy to see you. Teresa here was just leaving, come on in. Excuse the mess.” Jane opened the door and let her in, much to Lisbon’s embarrassment. 

She steamed in silent anger as Lorelei stood awkwardly by the table where Lisbon had been sitting. 

“Well, if you have anything else to say to me, might as well get it over with. I know how you like to speak your mind, and I must say, anger suits you,” Jane said, gesturing at Lisbon. 

She schooled her face into an eerie calm, but there was a white-hot rage behind her words. “I thought I knew you, but I guess I was wrong. Whenever you’re ready to come back to the real world instead of whatever the hell this is, give me a call.” Lisbon slammed the door and stormed out to her car. 

“Lisbon, wait-” Jane called after her. He met Lorelei’s gaze, regret on his features. “I, uh, I’m going to go talk to her. Sorry about all this, I wasn’t really expecting her to be here.” 

“It’s okay. Do what you need to do, I’ll just wait here.” Lorelei smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

He ran out the door after her, almost tumbling down the steps. Jane knew why she was there, understood that she was concerned about him and was just trying to help. But he couldn’t let her in on the trick, not yet. If he was right about Lorelei, it was putting her life in danger. The fact that she was even in Vegas to begin with was dangerous. He had no doubts that she could take care of herself, but Red John was more dangerous than anyone they’d dealt with before. There was only one way he could think of to help her. 

“Do you realize that now you’re the one running?” he yelled across the parking lot at her. “Did you ever think about that? It’s just like you to get mad at me for something and then do the same thing!” 

Lisbon was halfway to her car when she heard it. She turned around very slowly, thinking about what to say. “How is this in any way my fault? I tried to help you, and you just left. Without a word, without a trace. I’m just following your lead, Jane.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“I’ll say whatever I damn well please! You have no idea what you’ve put me through the past few months, and now you want me to do what? Just leave, right after I’ve found you again?” 

Jane turned slightly towards his room, where the curtains that had previously been drawn were now slid aside, Lorelei watching curiously at the argument. His pained expression turned to one of satisfaction. “I never asked to be found, Lisbon!” he yelled, louder than he had been before. “If you can’t tell, I’ve made a life out here, okay? I have other people. I don’t care what you do, but I want you to leave!” 

She threw her hands up in frustration. “What people? Your little girlfriend who’s waiting up in your room?” 

“She’s just-” 

“I don’t care who she is, it’s not my problem. Look, I knew this was a mistake,” Lisbon said, fingering the cross at her neck. His eyes were drawn to the glint of sunlight off metal, and he had an idea. “Jane...please come home.” 

“I can’t, Lisbon,” he replied, voice breaking. “You know I can’t. Hopefully someday I’ll be able to explain this whole thing to you, but right now, this is what’s best for me, okay? Don’t give up faith. Too much depends on it.” 

Red flags went off in Lisbon’s mind at his words, the hint of a revelation breaking through, but he was already walking away. Clearly, he wanted nothing to do with her, so with a heavy heart, Lisbon got in her car and drove off. 

Jane watched her go, knowing that Lorelei had seen the whole thing from his window. He didn’t really want to send her away, but allowing her to stay or letting her in on his plan would jeopardize her safety, something he vowed not to do anymore. It was excruciating to walk up the stairs away from her, the realization of what he had just done weighing on him like a ton of bricks. But by the time he got back to his room, the pitiful look had been replaced with a fake smile. 

“Sorry,” he said to Lorelei. “I didn’t intend for you to see that. She’s a firecracker, isn’t she?” 

“She is,” Lorelei agreed, biting her lip in a way that reminded Jane of when Lisbon was trying to concentrate. “Who is she, anyway? An ex-girlfriend?” 

“What? Oh, no, nothing like that. We worked together, a long time ago. When I moved here, I didn’t tell her where I was going, and she thought it would be a good idea to come find me,” Jane explained. 

She nodded understandingly. “I see. Look, if you want to be alone right now, I’ll go, but-” 

“No, no, I don’t want you to go! You just got here.” 

“Well...okay. If you insist,” Lorelei said, pushing the bag toward him. “I brought you some chicken soup.” 

“That’s very kind of you. And I meant to ask earlier, but I was a little, ah, distracted. How did you know my address?”

“The bail bondsman gave it to me.” 

“How did you know who the bail bondsman was?” Jane asked suspiciously.

She laughed. “What are you, Columbo here with the third degree?”

“I’m sorry.” He smiled. “Just a little curious.” 

“I knew who he was because I was the one who put up money for your bail,” Lorelei said tentatively. 

“That’s a lot of money. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.” 

She shrugged. “I figured you were good for it.” 

Jane’s vision swam as he realized Lisbon hadn’t been there because she paid his bail. Instead, he had been granted freedom by the last person he expected, a woman he hardly knew who probably rounded up the money in some way outside the reaches of the law, because he was certain that she couldn’t pay bail on a cocktail waitress’s salary. “Why did you do that?” he asked, fearing the answer. 

“You seem like a good man who’s lost his way. I could help, so I did. And at this point, a straight-up thank you would be okay.” 

“Thank you. There's, uh, a lot of good men out there who have lost their way.” 

“Wow, you’re gonna make me say it out loud? I felt like we got along pretty good. I felt like there was some kind of weird connection there between us. I trusted my feelings. Damn it, was I wrong?” She cast her big brown eyes toward him, a seductive gleam in her expression. 

“No,” Jane said quietly. He paused before speaking again, knowing full well that what he had to say would be crossing the line into betraying Lisbon. “You weren’t wrong.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late, I had some irl things to sort out this week before writing this one. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Many, many thanks to Leaf for beta reading!! I appreciate it more than you know!

Jane awoke to the clatter of plates in the little kitchenette connected to his room. Groaning softly, he rolled over to catch a glimpse of Lorelei making breakfast. 

Much to his dismay, she was wearing only her underwear and bra with his shirt thrown on over the top. 

He was still exhausted. Going a day without sleep only to come back to his room and have a blowout fight with his partner had already taken a toll on him, but he had to let Lorelei think she had the drop on him.

“Good morning,” he said quietly. 

“Good morning, sleepy lover.” She sauntered over to him in a way that was meant to be enticing. Before he knew it, she was pressing a soft kiss to his lips, reminding him of the guilt he felt. “You must have slept twelve hours.” 

“Yeah, I think I was tired,” Jane said, rubbing his eyes. Truth be told, he had been thinking too much to fall asleep after they were finished, but he had kept his breathing regulated so as not to wake her. At some point during the night, exhaustion had taken over and pulled him into a deep sleep. 

“I have to go to work.” Lorelei pursed her lips as if there was more to her words than met the eye. “I made some eggs.” 

At this, Jane smiled. “How did you know I love eggs?” 

Lorelei slid his shirt off her shoulders and tossed it to him as he got out of bed. His head was pounding, the ever-present headache coming back to taunt him. Scraping some eggs onto a plate for himself, he watched with a muted curiosity as Lorelei washed up and got dressed. Nothing in her demeanor pointed to anything out of the ordinary, but there was a sort of electric charge in the air that told Jane his suspicions were correct. 

“This is delicious, thank you,” he said as she pulled on her shirt. 

“We had fun, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Jane said carefully. They did have fun, there was nothing wrong with two consenting adults spending the night together. But for him, it was more than that. It had been years since he had allowed himself to be intimate with another person, and he felt a sense of loss at the lack of emotional connection. However he felt, he had to keep up the act. “Perhaps we can see each other again.” 

“That’s not up to me,” Lorelei said, shrugging her jacket on. 

Instead of reading into what she was saying, Jane opted for a lighter tone. “What, you have no say in it?” 

“None at all. It’s very restful.” 

“I don’t follow you.” 

She made eye contact with him and hardened her expression. “I do what Red John tells me to do.” 

“What?” His heart beat faster, and Jane allowed Lorelei to mistake his expression of excitement for one of confusion. 

“Your freedom, our night together, that was a gift from him.” Jane didn’t respond, and Lorelei looked as if she were bracing herself for the worst. “You can hurt me if you’d like.” 

Briefly, he wondered how badly her other marks had hurt her in the past. “No, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve given up, he knows that. What does he want from me?” 

“He doesn’t want anything from you. After all these years, he’s come to see you as an old comrade rather than an enemy. He hopes you’ll come to feel the same way.” 

“A comrade.” 

He watched as she looked him over, trying to ascertain what she was thinking. Ever since she had sat down with him at the bar, Jane was very careful about what he said around her. Even the tiniest slip could give away his act, and he didn’t want to have to scrap the operation accidentally. Just the fact that she had come back proved that he was onto something, and he wouldn’t give away that lead for anything.

“Patrick, look at yourself,” she said quietly. “You’re living in a shitty motel, constantly hungover, getting into verbal fights with ex-partner before starting a screaming match in the middle of the parking lot. You need a new life. He can give that to you.” 

“You leave Lisbon out of it,” Jane growled. “She has nothing to do with this.” 

“Oh, doesn’t she?” Lorelei asked, raising an eyebrow. “You and I, we see things differently.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, Patrick.” She leaned forward. “You know she came here for something. Whatever it is, you can’t let her tell you how to live your life.” 

He laughed hollowly. “Lisbon? I mean nothing to her.” 

“She may be upset with you now, but she clearly she’s trying to fix you. Why else would she show up after all this time?” 

Jane’s head was spinning. Lisbon had never given any indication that she saw him as anything other than someone who closed cases. The idea that she was trying to help him solidified the guilty feeling that had been nagging at him ever since he had left. 

“No, you’re wrong,” he protested. “She feels nothing for me. The only reason she came here is because I was arrested.” 

Lorelei smiled condescendingly. “And what about you? You’re not going to let her tell you what to do with your life, are you?” 

“I left that behind.” 

“Exactly. You need a new life. This whole ‘Vegas conman’ act isn’t going to work for much longer.” 

When he didn’t answer, she pressed on. 

“You can reinvent yourself. Join Red John as a friend, and gain part of that power he’s held over you for all these years. Revenge is difficult. Wouldn’t it be easier to just admit defeat and start over?” 

“I’ve given up on trying to get revenge. He wins. Somehow I always knew he would.” 

Lorelei smiled at him, an innocent look framing her face. “Oh Patrick, it’s not as bad as all that. Now that you’ve admitted defeat, we can work on rebuilding yourself. Red John wants your loyalty, and I know better than to disobey him. You would have to swear loyalty, but you’re really quite special. You’re worth more to him than I am, so he may give you some freedom.” 

“I have to think about it,” Jane said, his voice hoarse. “I gave up for a reason.” 

She sat back, satisfied with his answer. “It’s an interesting development, and not one that we expected. Red John will be happy to hear this.”

“What else does he want from me? I thought Red John would be more interested in the idea of winning than the idea of friendship.” 

“Patrick, it’s not the same thing. How can he truly know he’s won unless you’ve taken his side?” 

“So if he has me, is he still going to kill? Find some other person and ruin their life for some sort of depraved entertainment?” 

“I would be careful with what you say,” Lorelei said, her words suddenly taking on a warning tone. “Red John is more powerful than you know.” 

“You have to leave,” he said, standing up. 

“He’s offering the hand of friendship. If you refuse him, he’ll be upset. Anyone would!” 

“Get out.” 

She walked out as he opened the door, a frightfully calm expression on her face. “You know where to find me.” 

As Jane watched her leave, he couldn’t help feeling jubilant at the idea that his plan was finally working. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything he said had put Lisbon directly in the line of fire.

_ 

Turning her phone on for the first time since she left for Vegas, Lisbon walked out of the airport quickly, watching her phone light up with unread messages. She scanned the names, looking for something from Jane, but not surprised when nothing with his name turned up. There were a few messages from the team, some updates from Wainwright regarding her team’s closure rate, and a couple of emails from human resources about her leave of absence. 

While it would be simple to reply and simpler yet to at least read them, it was late and she was exhausted, so Lisbon turned her phone back off and got her car from the airport lot. 

By some stroke of luck, she had managed to get a flight out of Vegas the afternoon after her fight with Jane. Apparently, it wasn’t uncommon for people to miss flights out of Vegas at the last minute, but Lisbon tried not to think about why. Regardless, she was able to get a ticket quickly and easily, and landed in Sacramento in the late afternoon, thankful for the time she would have to rest up before going back to work. 

After getting home and unpacking her things, she booted up her laptop and responded to emails from management, letting them know that she would be back in the office in the morning. The messages from her team were supportive, and no one mentioned that she had called them asking about bail, although they were all wondering the same thing. She quickly let them know she’d be back in the morning, and went upstairs to take a shower and a much-needed nap. 

Too exhausted to be anxious, Lisbon fell into a deep sleep, interrupted only by fleeting dreams. 

Morning came much too fast for her liking. She hit the snooze button twice before deciding to get up, trying desperately not to think about the fact that she'd have to face the team. Everyone was there when she got in, a little later than usual, but no sign of anything outwardly wrong. 

"Morning, boss!" Van Pelt called cheerily. Rigsby was perched on the edge of her desk, talking animatedly.

Lisbon wandered into the kitchenette, trying to avoid making eye contact with Cho, who was fixing himself a cup of coffee. 

“Any news on Jane?” he asked as she reached for the pot. “You seemed worried, and then you disappeared. Everything alright?” 

She stirred in some creamer. “Everything’s fine. I had to take some personal time to sort out a family issue.” 

Cho looked at her carefully, his gaze conveying that he didn’t quite believe her. “Okay. We got some new information on the missing persons case, thought you might want to take a look. Van Pelt talked to a witness, we’ve got the transcript of the interview here. Just waiting to hear back from the gang unit for confirmation.”

“Thanks.” Lisbon appreciated that he didn’t ask any more questions about where she was. She headed back into the bullpen, coffee in hand, to regroup and discuss the current case. “What are we looking at in terms of a timeline?” 

“I talked to a woman who reported to Sac PD about seeing something around the time of death. She said she heard shots, then saw a tall Latin man running out of the alleyway with a sawed-off shotgun,” Van Pelt explained. “We just got the sketch from her description.” 

“Here,” Rigsby said, handing her the drawing. “I’m not sure how much this helps, but we could run it through the DMV database, see if we get any hits.” 

“It’s a start. And that scar is pretty distinctive, it would be hard to cover up if he were trying to hide. Did this woman notice anything else about the man?” Lisbon asked.

“Not much. Just what we have in terms of a physical description, as well as a location. The man was around an area that’s a known drug hotspot,” Cho said. 

“It’s something. Do you think he was selling?” 

Cho shrugged. “Maybe it’s gang affiliation. Some kind of initiation?” 

“There aren’t any gangs around here that use murder as their initiation act,” Rigsby pointed out. 

Van Pelt shrugged. “Maybe it was accidental. The gun could have gone off if it was loaded.” 

It’s a good point, but off the mark,” Lisbon said. “No one who just killed a man would leave the gun in the middle of the alley.” 

“Unless they were trying to throw us.” 

“Too unlikely. Van Pelt, check with the gang unit once you run the sketch through the database. I want to know if this man was working with anyone,” Lisbon directed. “If you get a hit, we’ll bring him in for questioning.” 

“On it, boss.” 

Lisbon headed into her office, head pounding. Digging through her desk drawers for some painkillers, she wondered if maybe she should have taken another day off. It wasn’t unheard of for agents to take an extra day to rest up before going back to the job. 

Her phone lay on the desk, its very presence taunting her. She knew Jane wouldn’t answer, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to call him anyway. 

He had made clear that he didn’t want to see her again, but Lisbon wasn’t quite ready to accept that explanation. Over the past day, she had replayed their conversation in her head, wishing she had Jane’s memory gift to file it all away. 

She regretted most of what she said. it was out of anger and embarrassment that the screaming match had started, but he didn’t make a move to try and stop her either. 

It had been the last straw for her when the other girl showed up. As far as Lisbon knew, he hadn’t made any attempts to get back into the dating world when he was living in California, despite the women who were constantly throwing themselves at him. Instead, he pretended not to notice.

Jane preferred a life of solitude, lonely nights spend wasting away in that damn attic. Even when he was with her she worried about him, concerned for how much of his time he spent alone, thinking until he couldn’t think anymore. It wasn’t something he could turn off, a sad side effect of his mental gifts. 

Lisbon knew this well, maybe better than anyone else. Many of her nights were occupied by work, filling out files and forms, solidifying her duty as the boss. Jane teased her relentlessly for it, not in an offensive way, but trying to get her to take a break. Always distracting her with whatever, pulling her aside for a cup of coffee or a snack. Eventually, it became a routine. If he noticed she hadn’t left her office in several hours, he would sit on her couch and talk with her for a little while before falling asleep. If he caught her skipping a meal, he’d suggest they go grab takeout and bring it back to headquarters. 

It hadn’t occurred to her before, but those subtle acts of friendship were as much for his benefit as they were for her. Jane had a similar problem. Whereas Lisbon couldn’t stop working, Jane couldn’t stop thinking. 

Sighing heavily, Lisbon dove into a stack of paperwork, wishing for the first time that she had just stayed home. 

_

Jane sat down at the bar, cursing his cover story. After months of careful consideration, he knew that playing the part of the drunken misanthrope was the best way to keep the con going, but the constant dehydration and headaches were starting to be more annoying than helpful. 

It hadn’t been easy to come up with a plan once he started, but so far he had been doing fine. Well, fine was a subjective term. He had been selling the story, but his plan hadn’t taken Lisbon into consideration. In hindsight, it was easy for him to see why Lisbon would come after him. After all, he had left her behind with no explanation. But whatever the reason, it was unfortunate that she had shown up when she did. Knowing what he knew now about Lorelei, Jane had a feeling that her life was in danger. 

Swirling his glass, he recalled the tone with which Lorelei had warned him not to speak ill of Red John. Clearly, she was under his control in every way. The way she spoke of him, Jane would believe she worshipped the ground he walked on. Upsetting him further was the last thing he wanted to do, especially since the plan still had a chance of working. Jane wasn’t sure what he would do if it failed.

Someone sat down next to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“I thought I said I didn’t want to see you,” he growled. 

“Really? I don’t recall that,” Lorelei said, far too chipper in tone. “I came to ask you a question.” 

Jane didn’t look up.

“This morning, when you sent me away. Was it because you didn’t know I worked with our mutual friend, or was it because you didn’t like what I was saying about Teresa?” 

He smiled sarcastically. “Maybe it was because I didn’t appreciate the bombshell you dropped on me. Friendship, my ass.” 

“I wasn’t joking about that. He wants you to join us, more than anything. But he also wants to know if there are any attachments between you and that cop friend of yours,” Lorelei explained. “Our friend has taken a special interest in her, given the circumstances of her arrival here.” 

“I didn’t bring her here. I didn’t tell her to come here, no one did. She’s a free woman, she can do what she likes,” Jane said, taking a sip of his drink. “Besides, what was I supposed to do, ignore her?” 

“That would be a good start.” 

“She’s called and texted me hundreds of times since I left, and I never said a word. How’s that for ignoring her?” 

“Patrick, look at me. There’s no need to be spiteful,” Lorelei said, her brown eyes boring into his. “None of us had counted on her, and given Red John’s interest in people you’re close with, I just need to know the nature of your relationship. I don’t want to kill her, and neither does our friend. But I have to know, so we can deal with her appropriately.” 

“What exactly do you mean?” 

“This thing you do with Red John...it’s like a game. The ultimate pleasure for him is matching wits with you. Think of it like a game of chess. Pawns have to be sacrificed for the greater goal, right?” 

Jane nodded slowly. “And what does that make you?” 

“Me?” she asked, surprised. “I consider myself a knight. But that isn’t the point. Lisbon is your piece, not Red John’s. He can take your pawn, but only if the game is set right. You’re the only one who can put your pawn in a position to be sacrificed.” 

“I thought I made this quite clear,” he said, spinning a coin idly between his fingers. “I don’t care what happens to her.” 

“Interesting. She seems to care what happens to you.” 

“I’m not going to tell her how to live her life. Lisbon can do what she likes. Now let me ask you something. In this game we’re playing, what pawns has Red John sacrificed? It seems to me that the death of my family is an illegal move, by chess rules.” 

Lorelei ran a finger along his exposed forearm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “That wasn’t a move. That was the invitation to the game. You see, it’s an exclusive club, getting to play mental games with Red John. In fact, you might be the only one who’s accepted.” 

“I didn’t have a choice.” 

“You did. Everyone does. It’s like I was saying, everything is black and white. Either ‘yes’ or ‘no’, there’s not a halfway point. And you made the right decision. Teresa, on the other hand? She might not make the same choice.” 

Jane looked up suddenly. “Is she getting a chance to join the game?” 

“Not as a third player, no.” Lorelei signaled the bartender to bring her another drink. “She would play the part of a pawn in this game. Or as a more powerful piece. Perhaps a bishop or a rook? Hell, she could even be your queen, if you wanted.” 

“What are you trying to say?” 

“I’m trying to say that she’s brought this upon herself. By coming to find you, she’s moved herself to your front lines, leaving her to grapple with Red John’s players.” 

“But he doesn’t want to kill her?” Jane frowned. This wasn’t making sense, and the smells of cigar smoke and alcohol weren’t helping his ability to concentrate. 

“He didn’t want to kill her, but it’s his move now. You’ve made yours, or rather, Lisbon has made it for you. Red John can do what he wants within the confines of his rules, and you’re powerless to stop him.” 

The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him. He couldn’t breathe, as if something had squeezed all the air out of his lungs. “Why are you doing this? I’ve given up, everyone knows it. Why does he still want to play games?” 

“Oh, he knows you’ve given up. If you don’t accept his friendship, we’ll have to forge on. Move pieces around to take our victory differently. It’s all about the strategy, after all. But there’s an easy way to draw this game to a close, Patrick, and one that requires fewer sacrifices. If you were to join him, this game could be wiped. Tabled. What’s done is in the past, but you would be unstoppable. The game lies in your hands.” 

As Lorelei got up to leave, he drained the rest of his drink, ordering something a lot stronger.

_

Tossing her pen to the desk and stretching, Lisbon smiled satisfactorily at the amount of paperwork she had finished. She realized it was late, catching up on the work she had missed had taken longer than she thought.

Van Pelt knocked on the door, peeking in with a file in hand. “Hey, boss? I think we got something.” 

Lisbon beckoned her inside and she sat down in the chair across the desk from Lisbon. “What’s the news?” she asked. 

“I just heard back from the gang unit, there’s a hit on our guy. Name’s Kevin Sentron, he runs with the Lobos gang.” 

“Lobos,” Lisbon muttered to herself, trying to recall where she had heard the name before. “They’re north Sac, right? 

“Yeah,” Van Pelt said, sliding her the file. “Mostly drug charges, a few breaking and entering, and one assault.” 

“Pleasant guy,” she said sarcastically. “When can we bring him in?” 

“Well, we probably won’t be able to get him until tomorrow. Gang unit’s working on a Lobos case right now, so we have to get approval from them to make a move.” 

“Of course they are. I’ll send a request off to their head agent, see what we can do. Hopefully, we’ll have him in by tomorrow. For now, go home. It’s late, and it’s not likely we’ll get approval to bring Sentron in tonight.” 

“Okay, boss.” Van Pelt got up but hesitated before leaving. “Is everything okay?”

Lisbon glared at her. 

“It’s just…you sounded really worried when you called the other night, and then you just left. Cho and Rigsby said you called them too, but none of us knew where you had gone. Have you heard from Jane?” 

For a moment, Lisbon considered telling her what had happened. The truth was that she had failed to bring Jane back, let alone make him see that he still had people in his life who cared about him. She let the heat of the moment cloud her vision, and had ruined what might be their only chance at getting the old Jane back. But admitting that failure felt too much like admitting defeat, so Lisbon pushed her conflicting emotions down and cleared her throat. 

“Everything’s okay now,” she said quietly. “I just had to deal with a situation.” 

“A Jane situation?” 

“Not exactly. He hasn’t contacted me.” This wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. “And at this point, I don’t expect him to. If he hasn’t reached out, he clearly hasn’t hit rock bottom.” 

Van Pelt nodded sadly, glancing at the floor. “Okay. But will you tell us if he reaches out? I really think we could help him, if he gave us the chance.” 

“I will. We just have to have faith.” Lisbon found herself echoing the same words Jane had whispered to her in the parking lot, as if repeating them would give it a new meaning. 

After everyone had left for the evening, Lisbon grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator, her headache returning to a dull throb in her temples. Wishing the guard a good night, she drove silently back to her apartment, not even bothering to turn on the radio. 

As she drove, Lisbon found herself thinking back to her conversation with Jane. Most of her thoughts were revolving around him as of late, in both pleasant and unpleasant ways. While her argument with him was difficult to relive, Lisbon couldn’t help but think there was something she had missed, some little thing he said or did that she should have picked up on, but was now stored away in her subconscious. 

It wasn’t unlike him to try and send her hidden signals, she reasoned. 

But the more she read into it, the more unlikely it seemed. If he truly needed help, he would have told her when he had first gotten back. He was Patrick Jane, for god’s sake, he should be able to figure out a way to communicate without turning it into a puzzle. She was a cop, not an enigmatologist. 

But whatever had happened to him had clearly changed him. He looked worn down and tired, dark circles residing under bloodshot eyes. Lisbon regretted not forcing him to come back. Surely, she could have thought of some way to bribe him. 

She parked her car in the lot of her apartment complex, firmly putting all thoughts of Patrick Jane out of her mind. He had made his choice, and she had to live with it. Exhaustion weighing her down, Lisbon went to unlock the door. The key turned in the lock, clicking as the deadbolt slid into place. It hadn’t registered at first, but the door had been unlocked, and she locked it again in the process of trying to open it. 

Suspicious of her apparent carelessness, Lisbon checked the bottom lock. There were several scratch marks on the outside, suspiciously deep and linear. It didn’t look like something she had done with her key, and immediately the hair at the nape of her neck stood on end.

Her apartment was open, and she was sure she remembered locking up before leaving for work. Before she could think about it any more, Lisbon drew her gun from its holster at her hip, holding it out in front of her as she opened the door with her foot. 

A single light was on.

Lisbon carefully checked all the rooms in the little apartment, making sure everything was clear, before locking the front door and drawing all the curtains. While she wasn’t usually uncomfortable in her own house, she wanted to make sure that no one could look in as she went to investigate. 

A lamp in her living room had been turned on, seeming suspicious because it wasn’t one she used very often. Lisbon knew for a fact that it hadn’t been on when she had left for work, and it hadn’t been plugged in for weeks. A warm glow from the single bulb spread over her coffee table, illuminating a crisp sheet of paper. 

Dread settled in her stomach as Lisbon stared at the paper, not wanting to look closer for fear of what was on it. Curiosity got the better of her, though, and she picked it up, hands shaking. The note read:

Dear Agent Lisbon,

It has come to my attention that you have made contact with Patrick Jane. Tracking him down was your first mistake. I ask only for his loyalty, but that friendship comes with a price. Now, the game begins. I must say, I’m really looking forward to meeting you. 

\- RJ

The bottom of the note was signed with a familiar red smiley face in dripping ink pen, smiling a sinister grin at whoever dared to read the message. 

Tremors from her hands had spread to her whole body, and Lisbon had to sit down in order to keep from collapsing. As soon as she felt she could walk again, she crept around her apartment, turning on every light she had, except the lamp that had been on when she got home. It was stupid, she knew, but it eased her conscience a little bit to not be sitting in the dark.

She returned the note to where it had been sitting on the table, knowing that no amount of forensic scrutiny would tell her who had put it there. Red John did not make mistakes. Clearly, he was aware that she had visited Jane, although she didn’t know how he knew. 

The idea of friendship with Red John was enough to make Lisbon feel sick, but she bit back that feeling as she desperately tried to rationalize everything that had happened. Several deep breaths later, Lisbon realized that someone who worked for Red John had found out where she lived and had broken into her apartment. 

If that wasn’t enough to make her uneasy, the idea that someone had been watching her while she was in Vegas made her paranoid. Someone could easily have monitored all of her movements because there was no indication that what happened with Jane had anything to do with Red John. 

If someone had found her, she was in danger, and Lisbon no longer liked the idea of staying in her apartment alone. Common sense prevented her from calling her team for fear of putting them in danger too. As much as she hated to admit it, Lisbon knew she was stuck, with no obvious solution. 

It was a desperate hope that no one was actually going to come after her, but the thought reassured her for a little while. Once the paranoid feelings crept back in though, no amount of rational thought could kick them out. It made sense that she was being hunted. After all, she had been hunting Red John for years. If Red John wanted to get to Jane, the easiest way to do that would be through Lisbon. 

Feeling like a trapped animal, Lisbon settled on her couch, gun in hand. She didn’t sleep, instead alternating between prayer and planning. Nothing seemed certain, but Lisbon wanted to make sure she had a backup plan, in case things went south. Adrenaline replaced the exhaustion that had settled in her body, keeping her awake and restless. 

Morning came slowly, in the same way that storm clouds roll in on what was once a sunny afternoon. 

Dressing quickly, Lisbon walked the few miles to her church, trying not to look over her shoulder every five minutes. She desperately hoped that the calming atmosphere of the church would calm her nerves. Bells tolled pleasantly in the background as she crossed the lawn, a sharp contrast to the fear in her mind. Choosing to focus on the sound, Lisbon crossed the grounds of the church, falling in step with the quiet sounds of the morning. 

The familiarity of the situation was almost laughable to her. So many times she had come here while Jane was gone, desperately praying for him to find help. But now she had a new purpose. This time, she was praying not only for his soul, but for hers as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I truly appreciate all the support!! <3 My update schedule may be changing in the next few weeks, but I should still be updating fairly regularly. Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! I'm going to be honest, I've been trying to hype myself up to post this chapter for a little while now, and I think I'm finally satisfied with this draft. It's taken a few rewrites, but I hope you enjoy the finished product! :)

The church was quiet, silence enveloping Lisbon like a hug. Where most people found quiet almost suffocating, Lisbon enjoyed the peace that came with an empty room. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the floor of the narthex as she walked through, announcing her presence to anyone nearby. Thankfully, there was no one around to witness her frantic prayers. 

Fingering the cross around her neck, she slowed her movements, feeling the peacefulness of her church settle over her. It was a habit deeply ingrained in her since childhood, the effects of a devout Christian mother and a Catholic school education teaching her to find solace in the quiet of a church. 

Several candles were already lit on the altar rails, casting a warm red glow over the floor. Many times Lisbon had found herself lighting one of those same candles almost subconsciously, but today was a day for prayer with different intent. 

She crossed herself at the entrance to the nave, closing her eyes for a moment before continuing down the aisle between the pews. Once she had decided on a place, she sat, taking in the warm colors of the stained glass windows. It was beautiful, the fractal patterns from the glass mirroring the calm she was beginning to feel. When the sun hit the window just right, it was almost as if a kaleidoscope projected itself on the walls and floor of the church. That sight alone was enough to momentarily settle her racing mind.

No sooner had she started praying than a shuffling sound from behind caught her attention. 

“This is God, what is it now?” The voice boomed through the otherwise silent church, causing Lisbon to jump. 

She whipped around quickly, hand out in what was supposed to be a defensive position, but her fist collided with something very solid and very human. 

“Oww!” Jane cried, shrinking down in the pew behind her. “What was that for?” 

“You scared the life out of me!” 

“I crawled all the way on my hands and knees from that door. It wasn’t worth getting punched, though!” 

“I’m not going to apologize,” Lisbon said. “It may have been an accident, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve it.” 

Jane nodded, pulling his hand away from his nose to check for blood. 

“What are you doing here?” Lisbon demanded. “I thought you were done.” 

“It’s good to see you,” he said, ignoring her question. “How have you been?” 

“How does it look like I’ve been?” 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

“No. I’ve been angry and hurt, okay? I come to see you in Vegas and you kick me out like I’m some worthless toy you’ve been messing around with for your own amusement.” 

“Just-” 

“Shame on you.” 

“Stay calm, okay? It’s important that no one sees us together.” 

At this she glared at him, the anger she felt in Vegas bubbling back to the surface. “Why not?” 

“I’m faking my breakdown. It’s a ruse to trap Red John,” he explained, as if it were a perfectly rational thing to do. 

“You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch!” 

“Okay, we are in a church.” 

“Wait, so how does faking a breakdown, if that’s what you’re really doing, because it looks pretty real to me, how does that trap Red John? Because to me, it just looks like you’re ruining your life and putting mine in danger.” 

He looked at her curiously, wanting to question the last part of her statement. “What does Red John want from me? What did he send that little girl to ask me?” 

Lisbon thought back to that moment, the panic in Jane’s eyes. “Do you give up?” 

“Exactly, and I do give up. I quit. I burn the Red John files. I freak out at the boss. I admit defeat, and I sink into a terrible depression.” 

“Brilliant. You did that part great. Now I’m on the run from whoever’s hunting me, and all because I had to go and care about you enough to find you in Vegas!” Lisbon raised her voice, but not enough to attract attention from anyone else. “Even when you’re not here my life revolves around you!” 

Jane blinked, watching the anger on her face give way to genuine fear. “What are you talking about?” 

“I got back from work last night and someone had broken into my apartment,” she explained. “Nothing was missing, but there was a note signed with a red smiley face. Either someone’s trying to play a sick joke on me, or I’m being hunted.” 

“Lorelei was right,” Jane muttered, the blood draining from his face. “So they’ve already found you.” 

“Lorelei? What do you mean they found me? Will you please tell me what the hell’s going on?” 

“Red John doesn’t want to kill me. I’ve admitted defeat, he wants something more. He wants to turn me, make me his disciple. Red John wants my friendship.” 

“Friendship? What does that have to do with me?” 

“I’m not sure yet. But he’s coming after you for a reason, I know that much. He wants me to start a new life, and that means detaching completely from my old one,” Jane explained. “He’s already reached out to start a conversation. I need to start a new life, and he can help me.” 

“Help you? He wants to help you?” Lisbon asked incredulously. 

“Yeah.” 

“What are you gonna do? If you join him, there’s nothing standing between him and me.” 

“Lisbon, if Red John wanted you dead, you would be. It’s harsh, but it’s the truth. There’s a reason he’s stalking you. As for me, I’m going to take him up on the offer. I’m in a lot of trouble, you saw that.” 

“We’re both in a lot of trouble. Look, this isn’t just about you anymore. Whether you like it or not, I’ve been pulled into the game, and I’m not about to just sit here and wait for someone to kill me!” 

He placed a hand on her arm gently. “I don’t expect you to.” 

“Then what do you expect me to do, Jane?” Lisbon asked, heart pounding. “I can’t tell anyone, especially the team. That’s a surefire way to get myself killed. Or worse. Remember Kristina Frye?” 

Although she would never admit it to anyone, especially to Jane, Lisbon was terrified. Her strong outer walls were crumbling under the pressure of being cornered like a scared animal, with no way to fight back against her hunters. She had gone into the church expecting to break down while praying, not while talking to Jane. 

Jane visibly paled at the mention of Kristina. “I’m giving him his heart’s desire. I have to play along with his plan, I don’t have a choice. You can’t tell anyone that Red John’s after you. At least not yet. This has to stay between us. If I had known someone was watching you, I never would have met you here today,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

“And why did you?” 

“Why did I what?” 

“Why did you come here? You couldn’t have known where I’d be.”

He looked at her condescendingly, trying to get a sense of how she was feeling. “I came here because I set up a rendezvous with you. Remember? In Vegas?” 

“What?” Lisbon spluttered. “I don’t recall you ever asking me to meet you anywhere.” 

“When I told you not to give up faith. That was me setting up a meeting point with you. I figured you were still going to church, and it’s the safest place for us to meet because it’s the last place anyone would expect to look for me.” 

“That’s not setting up a meeting, Jane! Setting up a meeting would have sounded like, ‘Oh, Lisbon, don’t forget to go to church on this day at this time so we can have a real conversation.’ Not this cryptic crap you decided to pull on me! How in the hell did you expect me to figure that out?” 

Jane clicked his tongue at her. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” 

“But it’s also the highest form of intelligence,” she retorted. “How did you know I would be here?” 

“I have my ways. I needed to get out of Vegas for a few days anyway, so I planned to corner you somewhere. You put in for personal time at work, so I figured you’d come to church eventually.” 

“You found out I’m on personal time.” She didn’t phrase it as a question, but he answered it anyway. 

“Simple. Call in, say I have information on a cold case. Ask to speak to the agent in charge, find out she’s taking time away, end the call and destroy the phone. Untraceable.” 

“Son of a bitch.” 

“Calm down. What matters is that I found you,” Jane said quietly. “And we can sort out the situation together.” 

“Together? After everything, you want to sort things out together? I tried calling. I tried calling you hundreds of times, begging you to talk to me, begging you to get help.” Her voice cracked, betraying the anger and sadness she felt inside. “Not a reply. Not a word. Not a text.” 

“Sorry.” 

“You know what? I have not been sleeping. I’ve been...forget it. Never mind. You know, you’re a jerk. And your plan? It’s stupid. It’s not even a plan.” 

“Teresa, now you’re just lashing out.” When she glared at him, he had enough sense to stop that line of conversation. “It wasn’t my original plan. The game has changed, I was told that much. It’s Red John’s move, and he seems intent on watching you.” 

Lisbon turned to him, an unreadable emotion in her eyes. “So you admit that you need a new plan.” 

“Yes. One that will help you. I don’t take threats to your life lightly, Lisbon. I need time to think, but we’ll come up with something,” he said in an attempt to be reassuring. 

“How much time? I’m not sure how long I have before Red John makes his next move.” 

“Not long. But you will help me?” 

Lisbon sighed loudly. “What am I supposed to say, no? Besides, I don’t really have any other choice. God, you’re despicable.” 

Jane handed her a phone from his inside jacket pocket, causing her to wonder how many phones he had gone through in the time he had been away. “Take this. It’s clean. I’ll call you on it when the time comes. In the meantime, do not contact me. Do not let anyone from CBI contact me, and don’t tell anyone the truth. Not a soul.” 

Lisbon took the phone, facing forward so that he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you were doing this, that you couldn’t trust me with a secret like that.” When he didn’t interrupt her, she continued. “We’re supposed to be partners. God knows I’m happy you’re back. It is a huge relief, but what you did, frankly, was a betrayal.” 

It felt so good to get those words out. Many times she had poured them into her voicemails, but releasing all the anger and frustration in person was a weight lifted that she didn’t know she had. If they had the time and space, Lisbon would tell him where exactly he could stick his plan. She turned around to watch the smug look wiped off his face, but he wasn’t there. 

“God, I hate you Jane!” she yelled through the church. “I hate you!” 

_

However reluctantly, Lisbon did decide to go to work. Pretending that nothing was wrong was proving to be almost impossible, but for appearances’ sake, she wanted to keep up a normal routine. Not telling her team would be difficult, but she didn’t know how much danger she really was in. 

In her experience, anything to do with Red John was almost immediately a death threat. But, by the way Jane talked about their situation, she didn’t think anyone was out to kill her, at least not if she followed the rules. 

Rules. There were so many rules. Lisbon was sick of dealing with Red John, with witnessing the fallout of his kills. She knew he viewed himself almost as a puppet master, manipulating and tricking everyone in his path into doing his bidding, or else they would pay the ultimate price. Red John had changed the game with Kristina Frye, deliberately sending them a message that he had the power to harm people with a fate almost worse than death. 

She was holding out hope that if she pretended things were normal, whoever was watching her wouldn’t get suspicious. Logically, Lisbon knew that she was done for if anyone found out she was in contact with Jane. 

Subconsciously touching the pocket that held the burner phone, Lisbon strode into the office like she would on any normal day, hoping that no one would notice the troubled look in her eyes. 

“Hey, boss,” Van Pelt said, falling into step next to her. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be back.” 

Lisbon sighed and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “I wasn’t sure either. Things just keep coming up at the worst of times. How are things coming with our John Doe?” 

“We got Sentron, brought him in for questioning this morning. Rigsby and Cho are talking to him now.” 

“Good work. Any ID on the victim?” 

“Still nothing,” Grace confirmed, walking with Lisbon over to the interrogation room. Rigsby and Cho were just walking out, looking downcast. “Hey, guys. What did you get from Sentron?” 

“Says our John Doe committed suicide,” Cho said. “He admitted to killing Dashawn Willits, but says he got the gun after our victim shot himself in the head.” 

“He was in the alley when it happened,” Rigsby continued. “Our John Doe shot himself, then he took the gun to resell. Sentron says he had nothing to do with the first death.” 

“Great,” Lisbon muttered. “Is there anyone who can corroborate his story?” 

“Yeah.” Cho opened up the folder. “Name’s Manfredo, also runs with the Lobos gang. It should be pretty easy to get him in, now that the gang unit’s closed their Lobos case.” 

“I can run him through the database, narrow down the safe houses,” Van Pelt suggested. 

“Do that. We need him in here as quickly as possible. I’ve got top brass breathing down my neck to get this thing closed so we can move on,” Lisbon explained. “The sooner we determine whether this was a suicide, the better.” 

As her team dispersed to begin the search for Manfredo, Lisbon walked sullenly back to her office to send out a report. If there was ever a time where she didn’t want to be doing paperwork, this was it. Her mind was far too occupied with trying to figure out who was watching her. 

Scanning the room, Lisbon wondered if there were bugs or cameras in her office. If there were, then this clearly wasn’t the place to pull out the burner phone. Right then, she decided never to take the phone out of her pocket unless she was in her car or anywhere away from work or home. 

She supposed it was her paranoia getting the best of her, but Lisbon spent the entire morning feeling as if someone was watching her, and she couldn’t get the image of the dripping, curved eyes of Red John’s mark out of her mind. 

_ 

Having gotten a flight out of Sacramento almost immediately after he had left the church, Jane was exhausted. Heading back to the motel and taking a nap sounded most appealing, but he knew there were eyes on him. 

There were eyes on Lisbon too, he reminded himself. 

Everything that had happened since she had first visited him in Vegas had been swirling around in his mind like a black whirlpool, preventing him from sleeping. He had a suspicion that someone was after Lisbon, but their conversation that morning had confirmed it. Jane couldn’t recall a time where Lisbon had ever looked that frightened. As soon as he looked her in the eye, he knew that she was truly afraid. 

The idea of Lisbon being afraid of anything rattled him, almost more than the idea that there were eyes on both of them. Jane had no idea how they had gotten in and out of her apartment undetected, nor did he know the extent of Red John’s surveillance on her life. Just to be safe, he decided not to call her on the burner phone yet, to prevent her having to answer while she was at work.

Truth be told, he didn’t have a plan. He had no idea what to do next, no clue whether or not Red John really did want to kill Lisbon or not. The only idea that came to him was running away somewhere off the grid with her, but he knew it was out of the question. 

So instead of entertaining that fantasy, as pleasant as it was, he went to the casino, knowing that Lorelei had a shift. It was late afternoon by the time she had a break, and she joined him at one of the little side tables above the casino floor. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about your friend,” Jane started slowly, trying to get a read on Lorelei. 

“Yes.” 

“You said that he could help me start a new life.” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“What does that mean, exactly?” 

She shrugged. “A new identity. Money. A place to live. A job, if you want one.” 

“And I do what in exchange?” Jane asked, looking away. 

“Accept his friendship.” Lorelei smiled. 

He gave her a dubious look. “It’s that easy?” 

“Sure. He’ll want to speak to you first. Make sure you’re on the level, if that’s all right.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And you’ll need to bring him a gift,” Lorelei added, grinning. “To show your respect for him.” 

“What kind of gift?” 

“Well, Teresa Lisbon would be the perfect gift.” 

At that, Jane laughed. “That’s absurd! What use does he have for her body?”

“He doesn’t want her body, Patrick. He wants her alive. And he wants you to be the one to bring her to him.” 

“I can’t do that.” 

“What did you tell me?” she asked, leaning across the table. “There’s no right or wrong, there’s just stuff that happens.” 

“No. No, there has to be something else. How could I do that to her?” 

She pretended to think it over. “I can’t think of anything else that would please him. Besides, didn’t you say she meant nothing to you?” 

“I did.” 

“Then what’s the problem, Patrick?” 

Jane let his breath out all at once, trying to alleviate some of the panic building up in his body. “I can’t do that. It’s not right. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.” 

“Oh, but she does. She’s a part of Red John’s game now. He has people watching her. Poor Teresa Lisbon has no idea what’s happening, only that there are eyes everywhere. He likes to create a sense of panic in his victims, you know?” 

“I know.” 

“Red John demands a gift. The only gift that will do is Teresa Lisbon. It’s really quite simple. This is just one of those things that happens.” 

Jane looked at the ground, quickly trying to figure out what Red John wanted with Lisbon. “What if I were to bring him someone else? A substitute gift?” 

“Patrick,” Lorelei said, shaking her head. “He will be very angry. He may rescind his offer of friendship. If you choose not to bring Teresa to him now, he’ll kill her himself, and will continue to kill other people. Thankfully for you, Red John’s generosity is boundless. If you bring Teresa to him as a gift, he will not kill her.” 

Reluctantly, Jane met her eyes, a fire burning brightly behind them. “How am I supposed to bring her?” 

“That’s the easy part. Now that you know someone’s hunting her, you can use it to your advantage. Go to her, promise to take her away from her problems and keep her safe. You’re a smart man, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And I know it’s been a while, but you could always hypnotize her. Make it easy on yourself.” 

Jane closed his eyes tightly. 

“I understand you’re not there yet, but look at things from his point of view. How else will he truly know you’ve had a change of heart?” 

He watched her walk away, trying not to think about what he would have to tell Lisbon. Hoping that Lorelei hadn’t somehow found out that he had been back to Sacramento, Jane began to devise a plan. Of course, it would only work if Lisbon went along with it. 

Idly watching people walk by, he thought about how to convince Lisbon to willingly go to Red John. And there was only one way to make it work. 

_ 

It was late afternoon by the time Rigsby and Cho had returned with Manfredo, Sentron’s friend and eyewitness. Lisbon sat with Grace during the interrogation, watching as he reluctantly began to speak. 

Lisbon had always hated dealing with gang members. It always complicated a straightforward case when gang ties factored in. Seeing as how they hadn’t yet discovered the identity of the John Doe, the next logical leap was checking in with local gangs. 

However, Manfredo’s interview proved to be almost fruitless. 

“Man just shot himself,” he was saying, looking wild-eyed. “Boom! Freaked me out. I wanted the gun, but Kevin took it. I got the bike, though. Sweet fixie.” 

“Where’s the bike, Manfredo?” Cho asked, glaring at him. 

“Got stolen. I know. Ironic, right?” 

Cho looked skeptical, but made a note of it. “Did you take anything else from him?” 

“We looked. He had nothing on him.” 

While Cho and Rigsby ran him through the database and copied down pertinent information to their file, Lisbon spoke with Grace about the progress of the case. The medical examiner had confirmed the cause and time of death, but wasn’t able to give them any indication of who the victim was. 

“I think he’s telling the truth,” Lisbon said, trying to focus on the case at hand. “Sentron admitted to the second killing no problem. Why would he lie about this one?” 

Grace looked downcast. “Looks like we’ll never know who he was. Poor soul.” 

The way Van Pelt said what they were all thinking with such finality struck a chord with Lisbon. She didn’t have much time to ruminate on the idea of doomed souls before Wainwright stuck his head in the door. 

“Lisbon, a word?” The younger man asked, looking slightly harried. 

“Yeah.” Lisbon shot Van Pelt an apologetic look before following Wainwright out of the interrogation room. 

“Is that the John Doe case you’re working on?” 

“Yes, sir. It looks to be a suicide,” Lisbon replied casually, trying to figure out what was happening. 

“Oh, good. Excellent. Get that off the books, eh?” 

She stammered, trying to think of a response. 

“I wanted to talk to you about Jane,” Wainwright continued. “It’s been six months since he’s gone. I think it’s time for a little outreach.” 

“Hm?” 

“Well, it’s the humane thing to do. Jane was a big part of the CBI family, after all.” 

Lisbon almost wanted to laugh at that, but she bit her lip. “I suppose, but I-”

“I just want to give him a call, see if, you know, I can’t persuade him into rehab or a psychiatry program or some such. You know, it could make a big difference in his sentencing. He could get community service. He could come back and work for us eventually. God knows we need him, closure rates being what they are right now. Low.” 

“Yes, sir, and we will do our best to fix that, but I don’t think we can help Jane.” It hurt to say it aloud, but it lent a voice to the feelings that had been nagging her for six months. “Besides, he’s made his bed. I don’t think I could work with him again. I need someone I can rely on.” 

Wainwright raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised. I thought you would want to help him.” 

“Well, I do,” Lisbon amended quickly. What she didn’t say was that too much meddling in Jane’s affairs could get her killed. “It’s not how it looks. I just have a feeling Jane’s better off left alone right now.” 

“Okay. It was just a thought.” 

Wainwright left her in silence, alone again in her office. Breathing a soft sigh of relief, she tried to calm her racing heart. 

Lisbon knew that reaching out to Jane at that moment wasn’t just a bad idea, but was one with potentially catastrophic consequences. If whoever was watching her saw her trying to contact him again, even if it was under the orders of her boss, she had no doubts that she would pay for it, just like Red John’s note implied. 

Maybe it was paranoia creeping into her mind, but Lisbon felt like a sitting duck, waiting for a call, for someone to make a move. She had entertained the idea of going on the lam to get out of the watchful eye of Red John, but he was too resourceful to let her get very far. 

Putting a hand on the pocket where the burner phone was tucked safely away, Lisbon hoped Jane decided to contact her before it was too late.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely people! It's been a while. I've been super busy with class and work picking up, and it's kind of drained my energy for the past few weeks. However, this story is not abandoned, I still fully intend to finish it! But updates may be a little more sporadic than I had originally planned. Thank you all for hanging in there with me, I appreciate your support more than you know! :)

Stretching, Lisbon was painfully reminded of one of the only things about her job that she disliked. The role of the boss required altogether too much paperwork. Wainwright had already requested closure paperwork on their John Doe, and she wanted to get it done. 

She wouldn’t admit to herself that she was staying late at work out of fear. 

Everyone had gone home for the evening, leaving almost as soon as they were dismissed. They had already processed almost everything else, but Lisbon stayed to finish the case report. It was dark in the building, an almost oppressive absence of light seeping into her office and sparking fear into her heart. 

For a moment, she considered staying in Jane’s attic hideaway for the night, but thought it was too cowardly. Facing things head-on was harder, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. Besides, Jane had told her that he didn’t think Red John wanted her dead. Powering off her computer for the night, she started to think about heading home. 

Lisbon was careful to make sure that she had locked her apartment. One break-in was one too many, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again. 

Some of Jane’s words had gotten to her, ringing over and over again in her mind as she went about her day. The feeling of being hunted by someone stronger and more resourceful than her persisted, and she needed to do something about it. Lisbon wasn’t about to stand by and wait for someone to find her. 

The drive home was tense, to say the least. Going back to her apartment held little appeal, although she knew it was safest to go about her normal routine. Trying to cheer herself up, she turned on the radio and sang along to the upbeat pop song she recognized from when she was younger. 

Even walking up the stairs to the door filled her with dread, discomfort sitting in her stomach like lead. It was crazy how all of a sudden she felt unwelcome in her own home. Unsurprisingly, nothing was amiss this evening. The door was locked the same as it had been when she left and nothing had been moved. 

Going to pour herself a glass of wine, the phone in her pocket buzzed, her heart leaping with excitement. It wasn’t a phone call, thankfully, but a text message. Jane was asking her to meet him at a diner. 

Leaving her wine glass, she threw on a jacket and left, chills running down her spine. The walk out to her car was brisk, the evening breeze moving in waves through her hair. Lisbon felt at peace with the crisp chill of nighttime air enveloping her. She drove with the windows down, breathing in the lights and sounds of downtown Sacramento. As far as she could tell, no one had followed her from her apartment, and she was in the clear. 

As hard as it was sometimes, she trusted Jane. They were caught in something bigger than them, and she had to trust that he would include her in his plan. He had a lot of explaining to do, but it was nice to know she wasn’t alone. 

Pulling up at the diner, she didn’t see the familiar blue Citroen, but went inside anyway. Some people really took advantage of twenty-four-hour diners, she realized. Before long, she spied a familiar blonde sitting in a booth at the back. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, sliding into the seat across from him. “You have a lot to catch me up on.” 

“Lisbon. It’s good to see you.” 

“Same to you.” The edge to his words didn’t escape her. He was being overly formal, trying his best not to say something wrong. “Everything alright?” 

He laughed hollowly. “I should be asking you that.” 

At this, she smiled a little. “I take it we’re both as fine as we can be, under the circumstances.” A waitress came by and brought Jane a cup of tea and a coffee for Lisbon. “So, what’s our plan?” 

“That’s why I called you here. We need to make a plan. I don’t like this any more than you do, Lisbon, and I don’t like feeling that I’ve put you in danger.” 

“You didn’t put-” 

“I did. We can sit here and play the blame game all night, or you can help me. Your choice.” 

“Talk to me. What’s going on, Jane?” She sat back in the booth, holding the coffee cup close to her chest. “The whole truth.” 

“You want the whole truth?” 

She nodded, sipping her coffee. It was going to be a long night, she was sure of it. 

“I left because I had a plan. We seemed so close to catching him, like he was around every corner. I spent weeks thinking about it, and it seemed the next logical step. What if this time I forced Red John to make the first move? Play out of hand long enough for him to come and find me. Because I knew he would. Red John doesn’t like it when his playthings go missing for long,” Jane explained. 

Lisbon nodded. She knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to talk about it, but he wasn’t out of the doghouse yet. Although she appreciated him reaching out to her, there was a lot he needed to clarify. 

“And I was right. Before I got arrested, I met a woman named Lorelei. She-” 

“The one that showed up at your hotel room. I remember.” 

Jane took a deep breath. “Yes. After you left, I found out she was working for Red John. That was the communication I needed. I told her that I’d given up, and she believed me. I kicked you out, made it really look like I hit rock bottom.” 

“It felt like you hit rock bottom.” 

“In a way, I kind of did. Red John suddenly decided he wanted my friendship, instead of the cat-and-mouse game we’d been playing. So he reached out. That part of the plan worked out fine. But now he’s after you too.” 

Lisbon met his eyes. “What does he want from me?” 

“He wants you, Lisbon.” 

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, the faint music of the diner drifting between them. It wasn’t possible, Lisbon thought. If Red John wanted her, why didn’t he just take her? Surely he had the opportunity and resources. She was already uneasy knowing that people were watching her, knowing that they wanted to take her only made it worse. 

“What’s our plan here, Jane? Every way I think about it, we don’t get the end we want,” Lisbon said quietly. 

“Red John wants me to bring you to him. He’s not going to take you himself, so we have a little bit of time. I’d say we have at most two days, but it’s better than the alternative.” He didn’t need to say what the alternative was. “I said I’d bring you. If I don’t, he’ll kill you and anyone else standing between him and me. I don’t want to risk that.” 

“What?” She hissed, leaning toward him. “You’re just bringing me right into the lion’s den!”

“I’m not. Lorelei gave me a message from him. He won’t kill you if I bring you to him. It’s as simple as that. I need to bring you in, get in Red John’s good graces, and find a way to get you out of there.” 

“It’s not going to be that easy. Red John has been five steps ahead of us from the beginning. How do you know what his plan is?” 

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I trust that we can find a way to do this safely.” 

“I don’t like it, Jane. Neither of us knows what’s going to happen, and frankly, I don’t want my life to be riding on the promise of a serial killer.” 

“I don’t either, but I can’t see an alternative. If we go on the run, he’ll go after the rest of the team and anyone connected to us. If we stay and I don’t bring you with me, you’ll die for sure.” 

“What does he want with me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Lisbon set her cup down with a clatter and clasped her hands together to prevent them from trembling. “I’m not going to gamble with my life, okay? It’s too high a price. What if something goes wrong? If he goes back on his promise?” 

“I’ll protect you, Lisbon. You know I will. I’ll always save you.” 

“I know. But we can’t plan for everything. There may not be a way for you to save me. And to be honest, that’s terrifying.” 

“Yes, but-” 

“But nothing. I’m not going to let you use my life as a means to an end, okay? We’re friends, that should be worth something.” 

“It is.” 

“You admit we’re friends, and yet you want to jeopardize my life by sending me right to a known serial killer. Jane, you’ve been chasing Red John for years, and you’re closer than you’ve ever been. I can only imagine how that feels, how desperate you must be. But I’m not going to sit here and let you put my life in the hands of a psychopath.” 

“I’m not trying to hurt you.” 

“You can’t make decisions like this and not include me in them. You’ve never been alone in your pursuit of him, but I need to be in the loop now more than ever. Why did you agree to this without talking to me?” There was fear in her eyes, and something deeper. Sadness, anger. He couldn’t place exactly what she was feeling, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

“Look, I know I don’t apologize often. But for this, Lisbon, I’m genuinely sorry. Please believe that.” 

She shifted almost imperceptibly further away on the seat. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.” 

He looked pained. “You don’t have to forgive me. You don’t even have to believe me. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re in this for good now. We can’t make this work unless we work together.” 

After a moment’s consideration, she relented. “Fine. I’m going to be here for every step of this planning process. You’re going to let me in on what’s happening if I’m not around you, got it?” 

“Understood. I’ll keep you informed.” 

“Yes you will. And you’ll tell me everything, not just what you think I need to know.” 

He nodded. “We need a way to get you out of the CBI. Make it look like you’re my prisoner. We don’t want the media to spin this like you’re willingly going along with me.” 

“That makes sense, but why can’t you just take me from my apartment? Less risk of getting caught that way.”

“There’s going to be less media coverage if I take you from your apartment. Security cameras are all over CBI, if they can get a video of someone taking one of their agents as a hostage, it’ll be all over the news. We need sensationalism to sell this. The last thing we need is for Red John to think we were in contact before the kidnapping.” 

“Great. So our plan is riding on media specialists.” 

“I know you don’t always like them or the way they deal with cases, but you have to admit, the media does a good job of blowing things out of proportion. We’re going to need that on our side for once.” 

“Okay. So we need a back exit with camera coverage, but no security. It shouldn’t be hard to find one, especially with my clearance, and if we time it right, guards might be between shifts,” Lisbon said, trying to visualize the layout of the building in her mind. “Around the far side of the lobby on the first floor is a back door. No one stands guard there in the evenings because everyone just goes out the main exit. I think you can get to the parking garage from there, right?” 

“Yeah. So if I were to take you out that exit, I can make a big show out of getting you in the car so that the parking garage cameras have it on record. I think one of the other issues will be getting me into the building.” 

“Right. I mean, everyone knows you.” 

“And everyone knows I left.” 

Lisbon sighed. “Just do what you usually do. Push past everyone, make excuses. People will have questions, but you don’t have to answer them if you don’t give them enough time. As soon as you get in, we have to move fast. If Wainwright sees you, we might get caught.” 

“Got it. Avoid Wainwright at all costs. What about once I’m on the right floor? We’re going to have to get the attention off of us for long enough to get you out of there.” 

“A distraction of some sort. But we have to be careful. It’s gotta be the kind of distraction we can back up.” 

“And if we can’t?” 

“Then we’re as good as gone. Maybe we can get the team to-” 

“No.” 

She stared at him, the crazed look in his eyes returning. It was obvious he wasn’t quite himself. “Why not? They’ll help us, you know they will.” 

“That’s the problem. I don’t want to get them involved. It’s just unnecessary danger for everyone involved.” 

“You can’t decide what’s too dangerous and what isn’t. I say we give them the option. If they want to help, they’re in 100 percent. And if they don’t want to risk it, they can walk away. It’s not our place to decide what’s right and wrong for them. And besides, we’ll need the extra people.” 

“Fine. You need to ask them as soon as we’ve figured out a plan.” 

“Aren’t you coming with me?” 

“No, I need to get back to my motel. I’ve already spent an hour and a half with you, and I don’t know who’s watching. If you can get with the team and figure out a plan, let me know what it is. I’ll go along with whatever you need.” 

“Okay,” she said gently, noticing he was fiddling with his wedding band. “This is going to work.” 

“I hope so.” He was silent for a moment, watching the light from above their table glint off the gold of the ring. “There’s an old building in the warehouse district where we can lay low in between your kidnapping and the meeting with Red John. If any of the team agrees to help, give them the address, but make sure no one else knows about it.” 

“I will.” She stood up and walked with him to the door. “Thank you for talking to me. It means a lot that you’re willing to let me in on the plan.” 

“It’s our plan now, of course I’m going to tell you. Use the burner phone to let me know what the team says, and we’ll reconvene once the rest of the plan is together. Be safe, Lisbon.” 

She barely had a chance to wish him well before he dashed out to his car and pulled out of the parking lot with a screech of his brakes. Belatedly, she noticed it was raining, and followed suit, running through the rain to her car. 

With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and texted Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt. 

“I need your help. Can we meet up somewhere? Tonight?”


End file.
